Five Years Ago
by tuuli-p
Summary: She's a successful writer with lots of pressure on her shoulders now that her latest piece is set to be played on stage. It is a lot to handle, and that is not even to mention she's merely seventeen. But just like the stories she writes incessantly, there's always a good point. It might have something to do with the handsome actor playing her main character.
1. Broken Reverie

I don't quite remember exactly when the daydreams began, but I'm sure that I didn't do it much when I was a child. My childhood was busy, filled with amusement parks and Daisy chains with my loving family. Life was so good back then that there was no need to daydream.

While I couldn't recall the day my vivid daydreams began I knew that it must have been when I was around nine years old. I remembered a complex story I had forged for a princess and her beloved knight. When I look back upon that story I realize that it had a lot of flaws. The knight was too perfect, the princess underdeveloped in her character. But those daydreams were the start of something for me.

From what I understand about most people, their daydreams are often not connected in anyway from one session to the next. They'll sit through a presentation and probably daydream what it would be like to be boss of the company, but when they zone out watching television a few hours later they probably dream of what it would be like to be a part of whatever show they had been watching. I was a little bit different. My daydreams followed one story, and they were linear. I also daydreamed excessively, which was probably why I was horrible at school despite the fact I was good at grasping academic matters. It was also why I was undeniably socially impaired. My obsession with daydreams led to me not caring about my lacking in either area though.

There were a few years that I felt extreme guilt for my daydreams. When I was about twelve and realized no one else spent so much time in daydreams, let alone in such complex ones, I feel into sort of a depression. I was upset with myself for thinking the way that I did. Eventually all of my frustration led me to hate myself temporarily and a spat of failed attempts to "fix" myself. I tried talking to people all the time at first, but years of zoning out in place of socializing took its toll on my ability to speak to others. I would say strange things, and would blunder my pronunciation of words frequently. I gave up on that.

After that I tried to find a passion. I tried playing a few instruments at first. It was fun, and I still play them to this day, but they didn't strike the fire in my heart like my daydreams did. Not to mention that you couldn't exactly bring them everywhere like you could a daydream. I was used to being able to dream in the middle of my math class, and it wasn't exactly acceptable to bust a guitar out in the middle to distract yourself. After the instruments, I tried to become an artist, but I didn't have the patience for it. I tried playing soccer only to realize my asthma was way worse than originally thought and had to quit. My last attempt to find passion was with sewing, but after having a panic attack when I saw too much blood on my hands from repeated needle pricks I gave that up as well.

I was convinced that I was not able to be cured and that I would just daydream my life away and be useless. Back then I saw no good side to the daydreams plaguing my brain. To me, my life would be filled with a blank face and a wild mind. I was okay with it, but when the world screams of greater things you begin to doubt yourself quite a bit.

When I was fourteen, I began to write the book that would change my world.

Finding a passion was my final stand, my last-ditch effort against my damaging daydream patterns. Writing them down was my last-last-ditch effort. When I went into writing the story down, I thought it was going to be useless. I was convinced that writing it all down would just result in failure and I would just have proof of my strange habit on paper.

I ended up being quite wrong, and was quite fortunate for being so.

It began the day I was typing up one of the ending chapters of my latest storyline. The tension was thick and the action was on, the main character on the verge of a very unfair death. Because of my bad eyesight I had chosen to use a bold and somewhat large font. A bored student sitting next to me read my story in favor of listening to the lecture, and ironically enough reported my behavior to the teacher. It was known that I was failing her class, but she cut me some slack due to the fact that I "diligently took notes" in her class. I never took notes though. When I was typing, it was for that story.

When my teacher discovered the truth, she was furious. She demanded to see what I was writing instead of notes. Of course I was hesitant to show her. I had never shown anyone my stories before, not even my own blood. I was ashamed of them. They were the product of my daydreams, and those daydreams were never a source of pride for me. But I didn't have a choice. The principal was on the case, as well as my parents. This story that was so tightly locked up was let go for the eyes of another.

I never wanted anyone else to read my stories. I wrote them as a way to get them out of my head. My logic was that if I wrote them down, I would have no need to daydream about them. So when my teacher approached me a week later about the story, I was of course mortified.

It began with her asking me to stay after school. Fear struck me. I expected the words. My grades had not gone up despite the fact my laptop was confiscated during school hours to avoid distractions. It was useless, so long as I had a brain I would daydream in place of observing reality. My case was a lost one, a long-lost one at that.

But seeing as how I wasn't a rebel, I agreed to stay in her class after school. The day was spent with me preparing for potentially harsh reprimand. While I was normally focused on my daydream world, being scolded brought out my petrified social side. I was nervous the entire day.

My hands were shaking when I showed up in her room that fateful evening. But I was met with a smile, not loud and harsh words as expected.

"Hello, Claudia. I read your book." I remember her casting a side glance to the laptop, a grin spread on her face. She must have just finished it.

I shuffled around, not making eye contact with her. My eyes rested on the piles of paper in front of her. I just nodded.

The young instructor closed her laptop to focus on me, making the pressure worse. "It was quite amazing. I would have never expected such depth from a fourteen year old girl. Did you write this all on your own, or did you have help?"

"I did it on my own." I muttered, hardly loud enough to be heard.

Her bright eyes widened, "Is that so? How long did it take you to write it?"

I only shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe two months." Back then, I didn't realize just how much writing I was doing. The book was four hundred and seventy pages when it went to publication. It didn't seem like a big accomplishment to me to write so much in that short of a time back then. I was a desperate person trying to let out their story though, so I suppose it was only natural it ended up so long and imposing.

"That's amazing, Claudia. While I am not permitted to condone the fact that you spent class time writing this novel, I will say that you are advanced enough in your writing to have no need for this class. I don't know how you could be failing with a masterpiece like this..." She cooed, eyes falling back upon the laptop. "Only fourteen and writing words that rival that of known bestsellers. Have you ever been published?"

I jerked my head up to meet her face for once. I could nearly feel my heart race. While deep down I knew my writing was good, maybe even good enough to deserve publication, I had never considered actually doing so. My mouth gaped a few seconds before I could make words come out of it. "No, I uh... I don't really talk about my writing to anyone. You're actually the first person to ever read anything I've ever written."

"Why did you never share it with anyone? It is very good." I am sure she had good intentions when she asked that. Most people who write that much have that dream to get published. But publishing that would be like publishing a confession that my brain was wired wrong. Even though the book never stated such a thing, the book represented that for me.

Again, I just shrugged. "I dunno. I don't think that anyone would like it very much." Since I had it in my head that my book was a confession of abnormality, it made sense to me that no one would enjoy it at all. Never before had I even considered someone else wanting to read it, and now that I did, it bewildered me that someone actually enjoyed it.

She had the most comforting smile, but even that didn't ease my nerves very much. "Well I enjoyed it, and since I'm your only reader that means you have a 100% approval rating by your audience. Is that not impressive?"

"No, not really. Only one person read it." What a rude thing to say! I regretted it as soon as it escaped my lips. Damn me and my inability to respond properly, I had to make amends-

But she only laughed. "Ah, that's the critical spirit of the author rising within you. You've got the makings of a great writer you know."

I managed to smile, but blundered upon every word I spoke. "U-uh, thanks."

Her enthused look became crestfallen. "You know, this is kind of a serious topic but I think we need to speak about this...," She folded her hands, looking me right in the eye. I looked away, not comfortable with her gaze at all. My nervousness returned in full capacity. "It is clear you have no interest in academics whatsoever. I've spoken to your other teachers and you act the way you do in my class with all of them. So unless you change your attitude, you have no chance of a conventional life."

I gulped. I felt frozen in time. I had no idea how to respond to that. Deep down, I knew what she was saying was absolutely true, and that was why I was so shameful about my dreaming. It kept me away from living in the real world. Such a simple inaction could leave me on the streets when I was out of school. And it was a vicious cycle, because anytime I tried to address the issue I would panic, shut down, and cope by daydreaming even more. It was horrible.

Aware I wouldn't respond, her lecture continued. "I do not know what is going on in your life so I cannot encourage you to change your ways. If you would like to tell me, you are very much allowed to and I will help you as I can. But...," She paused, as if for a dramatic effect. She wanted me to think on what she was saying next. "The girl I shared my dorm with at University ended up being quite a successful publisher. I know what she likes, and I know she would love this book. If you would consent to it, I could show it to her and you could get this published. You could make good money, I know it. You clearly have the talent at such a young age and you are only going to get better. Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but you are already good enough you might not have to worry about being extremely good in school if you become an author. What do you say?"

One of the more annoying things about social ineptness is that you have a habit of saying yes to everything just to get the conversation done. Even when it came down to life-changing decisions, my nature carried on. "Yes." I nodded quickly, body shaking.

So yes. I changed my life on a whim. But it ended being a good thing so I suppose I won't do much complaining about it.

My teacher, Ms. Ryu, was right about her friend. While it took Ms. Ryu a week to read my work it took Choi a mere two days of nearly nonstop reading to finish it. Apparently, she more than liked it, she loved it. After finishing she demanded to meet me in person. I, as always, was not very exciting to talk to. It didn't much matter because Choi was extremely talkative and just rambled about how much she loved my work. She also talked about the future, saying that great things were to come for me. Not once did she specifically say that she was willing to publish me, but apparently it was implied with her enthusiasm because she slammed down some legal documents for me to sign in the middle of her nearly one-sided conversation with me. I signed them without reading them and without any questions, pretending to listen to her ramble as I did so. It was quite overbearing for me, but it was nothing compared for what was stored in the months to come.

After the initial publication, it was quiet. I didn't expect much from it anyways. But about two weeks after some sort of celebrity got a hold of a copy and posted about it online, citing it as the best book she had ever read. After that Twitter post, my career exploded. The email that Choi had me make for business inquires was flooded, and I hardly had time to answer them all.

I thought when the media realized I was only fourteen that they would take me a little less seriously and divert their attention somewhere else. But after telling one of the emailers this, my fame only expanded. Headlines of Internet articles screamed with grandiose titles, "14-YEAR OLD GIRL BECOMES MODERN DAY SHAKESPEARE OVERNIGHT", which confused me because I thought Shakespeare kind of sucked and to my knowledge, he only wrote plays and poetry. If he ever wrote a full length novel, I was certainly not aware of it. The point was suddenly everyone loved me and wanted to have interviews with me, the whole nine yards.

With an interview, you couldn't exactly have a bumbling fourteen year old go up on her own and expect good things. Aware at my lack social finesse, Choi hired a few people to help me out. After all, we had quite a bit of money to waste on such things. I didn't see the point of it all but apparently I had signed to agree to whatever interviews the publisher's wanted me to be involved with so I had no choice. No arguments escaped me and I allowed them to teach me.

I had new two people helping me out now. Some sort of social trainer named Min-Jun showed up to help me talk to people and gave me ways to respond to tough questions, and oddly enough a beauty expert was hired. Apparently my appearance was a small issue.

"Now, you are very capable of being pretty. I mean, look at those blue eyes!" She cooed, quite fascinated by them. "Your facial structure isn't very feminine, but it's feminine enough and it can be improved with some face exercises. You aren't very chubby either, so that is good... The top priority right now is to get rid of that horrendous acne!"

With their help, my public appearances were quite grand. I could now fake social grace and I had a pretty face. My style was improved dramatically. After I did will with the interviews and published another ground-breaking book, I moved into my own apartment at the age of sixteen and got a private tutor so I didn't have to go to actual school anymore. Most of the time I just sat in the living room or in my bedroom and wrote, since that was my claim to fame.

For the most part, I was happy. There was one thing that bothered me though. I always assumed that I daydreamed because I lived a boring life, but even now, when my life was filled with excitement and publicity... I daydreamed all the time still. But it was okay now. It made me money if I wrote it down.

All of this leads us to the current time though. I'm seventeen right now, and I just finished something new for me. A play. I guess I'm living up to that Shakespeare title. Choi, as always, loved my work.

"We'll hold try outs a week from now, since the script has already been dealt out to everyone wanting to try for it. A famous actor is even trying for the main character!" Choi gleamed, taking a sip of some fancy wine I kept in my apartment for her visits. I wasn't much of a wine person myself, but Choi had done so much for me I made sure to keep some around.

I nodded. "That's cool."

"We should pick him for sure, it would be good publicity. He goes by the name Joker because he used to be involved in a lot of comedy, and he soooo fits the main part!" Ogled the bright woman, nearly spilling wine all over her shirt in her ranting. "He's got this beautiful brown hair, these striking yellow eyes... He gives me the chills, in a good way of course."

"We'll see. It's my choice, right?" I raised an eyebrow, not like she could see it. My stylist told me I looked good with blunt cut bangs, and quite honesty I agreed. It made my face look rounder and cute.

Choi nodded. "Yeah, it is. But I just know you'll love him, it'll be no contest!" Her expression turned mischievous, coupled with a grin that spelled out potential destruction. "You know, he's only nineteen, and you're seventeen so I could see some romance sparking up if you cast him. Maybe it would be some good inspiration for your next book!"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her. "I said we'll see. I want to give everyone an equal chance, not just the well-established folks." Part of me also wanted to mention that being in love would never inspire anything from me. All of my works were inspired by outlandish daydreams. None of it touched reality of my life whatsoever. I doubted my life could ever be interesting enough to even inspire a book based on it...

Choi puffed out her cheeks. Despite being quite older than me, she acted a fair bit more childish. I didn't mind though. Despite all my training, it was still hard for me to talk to people. Choi's casual nature made it much easier for me to speak. "Okay, but don't pass up a beautiful man like that if you get the chance. If I was your age, I would totally go for it. I'm just giving you advice as your senior, I know best!"

"Sure you do. Do I need to remind you of your last boyfriend?" I chuckled, taking a seat on the couch opposite to her.

Choi's normally unbreakable gaze was shattered. Flustered, she started at the table in front of me. "Okay, whatever. That was low, Claudia."

"I suppose it was."

The next week was filled with preparation. Choi and I had many a conversation just like that in my apartment. I started work on my third book, a storyline about a girl falling in love with a dragon somehow. But don't worry, it isn't weird like that, the dragon has a phone and he's totally catfishing her by acting like a really cute guy and- well, I can't tell you anymore. You can read the book when it hits the shelves.

It was also filled with a lot of preparation due to Choi's sudden urge to have me get a boyfriend, insisting that if I dated Joker it would launch my career like a rocket. I kept telling her I didn't need it though. I was a successful enough seventeen year old author with a whole life ahead and dating for publicity wasn't really necessary for me. I failed to mention that the real reason I was cautious was because I wasn't entirely sure if I liked people at all. I was so enthralled by daydreams I doubted that any real human could keep up. Of course, even Choi didn't know of my daydreaming addiction. No one knew.

I did give into one of Choi's requests though, and that was one of me dressing especially fashionable the day of the try out. While normally I did wear a fair amount of makeup, I went for a classier edge this time. Bright red lipstick and thick eyeliner to make my bright blue eyes pop despite my glasses. I looked quite professional. Choi personally curled my shoulder length brown hair too.

What made the look was the outfit though. It was a red and black cocktail dress, one that clung to the parts of my body that looked good. A few years ago I would never dare dress so extravagant in public, but this fame had brought me some confidence even though it never totally fixed my social problems and certainly did nothing for my incessant daydreaming.

The car ride over to the studio was quiet, as always. Choi and my driver were seated in the front having a conversation, while I stared alone in the solitary of the back seat. I told Choi long ago that I was quiet on car rides because I got slightly car sick, but the reality was that a car ride was the best place for daydreaming. You could just zone out the window and think up a situation for your characters, and no one would bother you at all for doing so. The glassy look my eyes got when daydreaming could also be dismissed as a side effect of the supposed car sickness. It was truly an ideal situation.

In the middle of the scene playing in my mind, the car stopped. "Time to go meet Joker! Let me get a good look at you." Claudia turned around in her seat, prompting me to leave dreamland and confront a much more boring reality.

I let out a hefty sigh and faced her, pretending to care about whatever it was she had to say. Choi couldn't help it. She didn't know that disrupting my daydreams was such a felony in my head. Hell, she didn't even know I indulged in so much daydreaming. Fortunately Choi couldn't detect the magnitude of the situation and dismissed my moodiness as a side effect of being car sick.

"For someone who probably felt nauseous the entire way here, you look so elegant. This is going to be so fun!" She chimed, winking at me before exiting the car.

I nodded, still attached to what was on my mind. My main character, an outgoing volleyball player named Sadie, had just finished up a meet with the college that could revolutionize her career... But it was so far away from her her online lover. She had a lot of things to ponder and quite frankly I wanted to ponder them with her more than I wanted to meet these potential actors for my play.

Without a word, I stepped out of the car and stood beside Choi. We were immediately greeted by our security. It still felt quite weird to me, having security guards surrounding me like this. Despite my success I still was unable to grasp that people adored me. In my head I owed it all to the characters dancing around up there, not me. They practically wrote their own stories by existing in my mind. I merely translated it into words. Being a daydreamer like this detached me from emotions like that I guess.

"Welcome, Ms. Kim and Ms. Windsor." Ms. Windsor? What a strange way to address me. Even most of my fans just called me Claudia. It wasn't strange for people to call Choi by Ms. Kim though, I was probably the only person who called her by her first name and that was simply because she adored me enough to allow it.

We both gave a gentle nod of the head to show our respect, but I was nervous around these people. All my classes in socializing never took away the fact I was scared of communicating with new people, it just allowed me to have a calmer facade. Even then I failed quite frequently. At least my fans thought my blunders were cute.

The larger of the guards nodded in return. "I am honored to be guarding you two. My daughter is a big fan of your's, Ms. Windsor. She hopes to be as good of a writer one day... She writes all the time because of you being her inspiration." He smiled big at me, obviously proud of his daughter, "Thank you so much for that. She's doing very well with it and I feel like I owe it in part to you."

I cast my own awkward smile in return. I hated to tell him that the key to my success in writing was an abnormal thought process I hoped that no one else would adapt... Daydreaming instead of being concerned with reality damaged me quite a bit after all. But I had never told anyone of this, let alone a random security guard. I was good at playing a part so I just nodded. "Well, with lots of practice, she'll become an excellent author one day. I'm sure of it. Just tell her to read lots of books to expand her vocabulary and she will be just fine."

"I will!" He beamed. I hardly heard him though, because I was impressed that I was able to string such a complicated strand of lies without a single stutter. That was rare coming from me. Huh, good job Claudia!

Without another word from them, we were led into the theatre. I gazed up at the large, old-style building. It was quite beautiful to look at, with a level of expertise that wasn't always common in buildings of today. It was stunning. While I was not whatsoever interested in going into architecture, I was very much interested in admiring it. I was a lover of anything beautiful.

Ahem, speaking of that.

"Hey, Claudia. That's Joker!~" My pale-skinned publisher pointed him out after violently tapping me on the shoulder. And I had to admit, she was not exaggerating his graceful looks at all in the many explanations she had given me the week previous.

My eyes widened a little bit at the sight. Since he was more big budget than the rest of the applicants, he really stood out among them. While everyone else was simply pacing the hall, going over lines again, Joker sat down in your typical directors chair sipping from a hipster-looking bottle of coconut water. He looked so chilled, like he was made of stone and felt no fear. It was admirable for one, but it was also beautiful to admire. I swallowed hard. That jawline was of the Gods, and his hair reminded me of expensive and rich chocolate. You know, the kind that is so expensive that you could only dream of affording one piece of if and you eat it as slowly as possible to savor it.

Someone must have shown him a picture of me, because he smiled when he caught me staring at him. As soon as he made eye contact with me, I looked away and pretended that I saw something very interesting on the barren white floors. Even then, he still approached me. The vibes he sent off oozed confidence and made me beyond nervous. The familiar feeling of sweat on my palms and a racing heart returned to me. My eyes stayed locked with that floor.

"Hello." Oh gosh, his voice was like velvet. "Are you the lovely lady who wrote the play? My, my... You're even more cute in person."

The floor was still enthralling, but I heard him. My face was burning.

Joker laughed. "I heard you were shy, but there is no need. I'm pretty sure that we'll get to be good friends these next few months... With the play and all." He extended one of his elegant hands, gently caressing my chin and guiding my head to face him in favor of the floor. I was on lockdown, I did nothing to protest his motion of touching my face. The world was moving slower now, I felt like the moment wouldn't ever end. My heartbeat was faster, I felt like my body was consumed by fires-

And all I said was, "W-we... We'll... See... about that."

Joker cocked his head to the side, soft hair waving as he did so. Despite my words, he gave me a gentle smile. "Hm, we'll see? You doubt my skill as an actor, do you? Hahaha...," Even his laugh was enchanting. Who the hell was this guy? "I'm sure I'll correct that misconception at the audition."

As if to place the cherry on top of his charming sundae, he winked at me. I gulped, unable to get words to escape my throat. Not like I could even think of anything to say, I was far too flustered.

Fortunately, he just laughed a little more and strut back off to his exclusive seat. My body was still frozen when Choi spoke up.

"See, I told ya he was impressive. I think we have our Hans chosen!" She chimed, starstruck herself.

I shook my head quickly, trying to clear my mind from the haze of handsomeness I had been caught up in. "U-uh, nah. Not yet."

Choi's hazel eyes narrowed, and her lipstick clad lips pursed themselves. "What do you mean?! He's perfect for it. He's a great actor, and he's totally handsome. You said you wanted Hans to be played by an extremely handsome man, didn't you?"

I nodded. "He's handsome, but... He isn't the only handsome guy in the world." Joker much reminded me of a character from my first novel. The type that was so beautiful and aware of it, the type who used that fact to get what they wanted. I wasn't hating on it though, for it was an effective method. However I was not going to let it rule over my production.

The publisher rolled her eyes at me. "Whatever. I guess we'll sit through eleven men trying to vie for the part when we all know who the best candidate is. Wasting time is just my favorite thing to do!"

"Isn't he going to ask for a lot of money? We should at least hear the rest of them out." I explained, hoping to make Choi a little more open to someone else potentially playing the part.

"That's the beauty of it!" She insisted, grabbing me by the arms. "He loved the story so much that he's willing to do it pro bono."

"Well, that's awful nice of him, but let's give the others a chance." I insisted, wiggling my way out of her intense grip on me. The guard on my side had been glaring holes into her the whole time she was on me. I guess they were there for interpersonal attacks as well...

Though she clearly disagreed, Choi let it go as we entered the auditorium. Again, it was a truly grand building. The trim level was beyond extravagant, baby angels carved into the walls with what I assume was marble. It was truly glamorous.

We were seated in the front row, in the middle so we would have the best view of the actors and actresses. Beside us was seated the director who had been chosen for the play, an eccentric looking man dressed in a bright purple trench coat. Even though he was the official director, the cast was entirely my decision. Everyone had agreed that since I was the author of this play, I would be the most capable of choosing the people who would represent my characters. My director, who went by the name Stardime, would handle it from there.

He gave both of us a big smile, showing off his falsely white teeth. "Hello, hello! It is so nice to see you again, Claudia. I'm absolutely ecstatic for the auditions!"

Oh, gosh. I loved Stardime and all, but he was so loud. It made me anxious. I retreated into myself and nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Stardime chuckled and slouched back in his seat, weaving his hands together. "I have a feeling we'll be witnessing a lot of talent tonight."

"With someone like Joker here, of course we will!" Choi cut in, beaming. She really, really liked this Joker guy... It was a little obsessive. Choi was always exuberant but she was even more hyped up when it came to speaking of him.

I was still apprehensive, even though Stardime nodded in agreement.

Our first round of auditions were for the main female character and the eventual love interest for the male character that we already had so much debate about. Every actress who attempted was fairly qualified, but one shone far beyond the others. She was an extremely tiny blonde woman with the most deep brown eyes I had ever seen.

"... And if you want me to leave so you can continue your experiments, I will! But so you know, Hans..." Her petite hands reached for an invisible man, shaking with emotion. "I... Will always love you, forever and ever. I don't care if your work causes the death of others. Death to the world, for all I care! You are the only one who has ever understood, the only one who even tried to comprehend me. You saved me, and nothing you could do... Nothing could ever change that."

Her singing was even more impressive. She gave us a heartfelt cover of what she claimed to be her favorite song. I felt chills, and when she let out her last note I felt the hair on my arms raise. She was cast on the spot. When we told her, I thought she was going to burst.

"Thankyouthankyou!" She squealed, twirling around. The energy coming from her could practically be grasped by the hand. I couldn't help but smile at her content.

The rest of the auditions went similar. All heavily qualified, but one star shining brightly above the rest of the bunch. All had a certain passion to them that was completely foreign to me. My daydreaming took any chance of passion away, and having these people in my production was a most thrilling prospect.

I did not have a single trouble in casting someone until it came down to Hans.

"Hello, Ms. Claudia. How do you do?" Bowed Joker, a smile splayed wide across his face. His confidence was choking.

"I'm fine." I muttered, not making direct eye contact with him.

Removing himself from his bow, he began to prowl around the stage. His walk even accentuated his power and finesse. I know girls ogled over him, and Hell, I was one of them. But there was something there, something I couldn't detect that made me fear him. Maybe it was just his looks though. It didn't take much for me to become acutely petrified of something, seeing as how I held no grace whatsoever beyond my writing.

"I am going to recite the scene wherein Hans's experiments are exposed to Helga. Are you ready for it?" He inquired, his booming voice resonating throughout the auditorium.

My voice was that of a mouse compared to his. I was surprised he actually heard me when I mumbled, "Yes."

"Helga, I see you've found your way into my lair." He pivoted quickly to face where she would be standing. His expression had quickly morphed from the confident one he had when speaking to me to an expression of someone who had been caught doing something wrong. But true to his character, he quickly composed himself. "Hehehe... Sister, I welcome you here. Don't worry, there is nothing to fear! I would never test any of this on you..." He snapped his hand to the right, pointing.

"Oh, this man? You must wonder why his stomach is open. That isn't really important, dearest Helga. Ssh, ssh... He was a criminal anyways. Robbed a poor woman with children. He deserves such pain." He waltzed over to the imaginary scene of gore, looking over another imaginary table to examine the body. "What was I trying to do? Hohoho, I was trying to learn some more anatomy of course. These experiments require a proficient knowledge of the human body and I was lacking in the stomach area. But I believe now I am fully informed. His death was more useful than his life, you see?"

There was a pause, to insinuate Helga's line in response. It was calm for a moment, but then that laugh.

It was ear piercing, it was horrendous. Not in the way it was supposed to be though. Hans was meant to have a deranged laugh, but this was a whole new level. His chuckles from before were acceptable but this was...

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. For lack of a better term, it was a hilarious sound.

I couldn't stop my own laughing for a good ten seconds. Was that really the laugh he had chosen for Hans? It was awful! Joker's voice was the true joke here. I had been right about not casting him from the get-go, like Choi would have wanted. And speaking of her, she was giving me the most offended look, as if I had denounced all she ever stood for. Stardime, old man he was, was fast asleep next to me. Sometime during our auditions for Helga he told me that he trusted my judgement and passed out. He wreaked of liquor though so I could put together what was going on.

Joker cocked his head, frowning. He at least still looked like a chiseled God when he was upset, he did have that going for him. "Excuse me, did I say something wrong?"

"N-no." I was still giggling, but I forced myself to come down from it. I removed my glasses to wipe my tearing eyes. "I'm sorry, but what was up with that laugh?"

"What do you mean? Was there something wrong with it?" He inquired, clearly bewildered by my amusement.

Just when my laughter was beginning to calm, it was ignited again. He didn't know that his laughter sounded like a chihuahua choking on a squeak toy? I roared, bending over in my seat to let it all out. I heard Stardime rustle next to me. My laughter was so intense I managed to wake up a hungover man.

Joker was quiet until I found some more composure. "Oh my gosh... Haha, if that's what you plan on doing onstage, I don't know if I'll be able to cast you."

His brow furrowed. "You don't know? You surely must know I'm the most qualified actor that has graced this little audition of yours, right?"

While the cockiness was not appreciated, I was not the queen of witty comebacks. I shrugged. "Probably. But your laugh is stupid."

Crossing his arms, Joker snorted. "I can do different laughs, I just happen to think that laugh was perfect for Hans. Excuse me for trying to be in character, Ms. Claudia." He spat my name out like it was rancid meat. The way he said it made me nervous again and my happy little high his ridiculous laugh had created vanished. I gulped and just nodded let him know he could continue.

But it never got better. I think he tried seven different laughs and each one just made me howl even more. And of course, every time I expressed my amusement Choi shot daggers at me with her gaze. I couldn't help myself though, I wasn't adept enough at hiding the few emotions I got caught up in to.

At the end of the final laugh, I dismissed him with a flick of my hand. "G-go on Joker, we'll let ya know if you got the part when auditions are over. T-thanks for taking the time hehehehehe." My dismissal was filled with laughter itself. It was pretty disrespectful and Joker marched off the stage, cheeks puffed in anger. I did feel a little bit harsh, but truly, I couldn't control myself.

Choi immediately slapped me on the back of the head, amusing me to choke on my own spit. While I was caught in a fit of coughing, she started reaming me.

"What the hell was that!? You just pissed off the best actor that's gonna walk through here!" She scolded, eyes squinted in disapproval.

I pouted. "Hey, you gotta be real. That laugh was pathetic."

"No, it wasn't. It was the laugh of an angel and you simply do not know how to appreciate beauty when it is standing right in front of you." Scoffed Choi, crossing her arms.

"Hey," I nudged her, feeling a little bad for upsetting her so, "We haven't cast anyone yet. He still could get it! The rest of it was really good."

The brunette didn't bother responding to me. She just turned back to the stage with a sour look on her face.

"Who is next anyways?" I inquired, trying to change the mood.

She glanced down at the sheet of paper that cited the order of the auditions. "Some kid named Zen. He's kinda famous locally, apparently."

"I've seen him before. He was absolutely marvelous in his last performance!" Stardime chimed in.

Again, Choi rolled her eyes. "He won't be as good as Joker, I know it."

"Well, I hope I can change your mind on that."

During our conversation, the next participant must have walked on stage. His voice alarmed me, so I looked up to examine him.

"H-hi! I'm sorry about t-that. Are you Zen!?" I stammered, shocked by both his sudden words and his appearance. His looks quite rivaled that of the previous contestant. If you asked me though, I would say he was even more attractive. His hair looked like spun summer clouds, and his eyes held this mystique to them... Bright red, that was rare...

He smiled. "Yeah, I'm Zen. It's still cool if I try out, right? You guy seemed pretty argumentative just now so if I have to leave, I will...," Zen paused, looking upward to something I couldn't see. "But... I really was hoping to get this part. It's a really good play you know."

My heart shattered in a thousand pieces. Okay, not literally, but he seemed so broken up by the fact his role may not be secure. Involuntarily, I clutched my chest. "Yes, yes, yes! Go on, please."

Immediately, Zen looked down. He let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. There was a few seconds of complete peace and silence.

And then he broke it like a storm hitting a peaceful night.

"Ursula, come back! You promised me you would never leave me. Why why why are you gone, my little bluebird!?" He paced back and forth as if something urgent had happen. Shaking hands were brought up to his head. "How could she do this to me? Was her love for me just an elaborate hoax? That harlot!" He groaned, snapping his head to the side to stare down at the floor. In the full production, a woman would be lying there on that floor.

He paused again, eyes narrowed as he stared down at that spot in the floor. He circled it like a vulture. Out of script, he spat on the floor, but that only made me sit on the edge of my seat. He understood this character enough to break script to represent him fully... And I was totally enthralled.

"I can't believe you, you... You scum. You promised me you would love me no matter what. You swore to me that you would never leave. You said the world could burn!" Zen's voice got louder with every accusation, passion rising. For a moment, I forgot his name was Zen. He was a representation of everything Hans was. In that moment, he was the Hans I had forged in my mind.

He dropped to his knees, menacing over the body. A hand floated over it, pretending to grasp a strand of hair. "Bluebird," He chimed in a singsongy voice, "You told me you'd love me until the end of time, so why the hell did you go and die?"

He paused for her line. Seeing as how I was the one who wrote the play, I recalled it vividly. This was the part where she whispered, "I do, Hans... I do..."

But Hans never heard that. And this boy knew that well. He stood up, kicking the imaginary body. "Hmph. You weren't worth the time, bluebird of mine. I never loved you much anyways, I just needed someone to love me for the sake of the experiment..." Zen let out a long sigh, staring up to the ceiling. Another one of what was supposed to be Hans's infamous laughs came out, but this time, I didn't laugh in response.

The laugh was chilling in the way I had imagined it to be. Even more so. For someone who vividly daydreams all of these stories in her mind, I was not ready for this. His laugh was chaotic and terror-inducing, and I felt like it was being directed right into the pit of my soul. I felt frozen. I felt like there was a cement block being set upon my body preventing me from moving, or even breathing.

It was the perfect laugh.

My mouth was gaped and I must of looked so awkward, but I was enthralled. How was he not more well-known?

He came down from his laugh, cracking near the end. That crack made it even better. That crack in his laugh, the breaking in his voice...

"Oh, lil bluebird... You were such a pretty pawn."

I stood up and clapped. I couldn't help myself. That performance moved me, because this Zen had just exactly acted out exactly what I had envisioned when I was daydreaming. It was so personal to me. It was like he reached inside of my mind and pulled out this exact replica of my plan. He had the part. I wanted to tell him. But for now, speech was taken from me. I was too engrossed in his performance to remember my words.

Zen gave me this gentle smile. His face was gorgeous, in a way that could be extremely evil or extremely pure. It was the ideal face for an actor. "Do you want to hear the singing part, or am I signed on?"

"I'll listen." I spoke too quickly, not remembering all my training to speak. It didn't matter. "But you have the part. No one got close to that. You have it."

His grin was cocky, but I could respect it because I knew that he had power behind that cockiness. "Thanks, I really wanted it. You wrote it, right? It's a really good play."

I could scarcely believe that I, a mere mortal, wrote something that this beautiful demigod enjoyed. "Uh-uh, yeah, I did. Thanks. You played it really well too."

His singing, as expected, was equally bone-chilling. My reaction, as also expected, was equally cringe inducing. But he was nice and accepted the part with grace, thanking me before walking off stage. I saw him pump his fist as soon as he thought he was out of sight. He seemed to be really happy... My production made him happy. What a joy.

Still a in a haze, Choi tried speaking to me. "What the hell was that!? Casting that guy so quickly over Joker? That was such a lame move!"

"I had the power to choose here." I turned to her, attempting to stand my ground. I didn't do that sort of thing often though, so my voice trembled a little.

Choi stood, looming over me. "We all thought you were going to choose Joker though!"

"Then what was the point of even having an audition!?" My normally soft voice raised, but only a little. There was not enough power with in me to raise such a roar, especially nothing in comparison to what we had just witnessed Zen produce.

She grimaced at me. "You have no idea what the hell you just did."

When she said that, I figured there was some implication that something bad would happen to me for not picking Joker. But two weeks later, absolutely nothing has happened to me. I've daydreamed a lot, I've written a lot for my next book, and I've slept a lot. A normal cycle for someone like me.

The pattern didn't break until Stardime saw fit to call me at three o'clock in the morning. Fortunately for him, I'm a writer. When we do sleep, it seems to always be in the daytime. "Hello?" I answered, eager to get the conversation over with already. I was halfway finished with a sentence when he called me up, and seeing it unfinished was bothering me.

"Hey, Claudia! I'm calling to talk about the play." His words were slurred, as if he was drunk. I wouldn't be surprised but I also wouldn't judge it. For Christ's sake, if you are up at three in the morning you better be writing or drunk. Because if you aren't doing one of those things it is entirely likely you are miserable and can't sleep because of horrible thoughts running through your mind.

"Uh-huh. Shoot." I leaned back in my desk chair, ready to hear him out.

"Well, first of all, you picked a good cast. Much better than that Joker kid for the main part too, Zen's been amazing." I grinned. My intuition had been right! I was ecstatic. After all, I didn't enjoy fighting at all, let alone with Choi. Choi was very dear to me and I hated arguing like we did. Even now she was hostile about it, so when we met up we would both go out of our way to bring up the play. It wasn't like we had to anyways. She was my publisher, not my director.

Stardime went on. "Well, everyone really wants to meet you. They all really enjoy the script and I just think it would be nice if we could all get together sometime and enjoy some food. There's a restaurant that we tend to go to after practice, would you mind meeting us up there tomorrow?"

I pursed my lips. "What time?"

"Dinner time, so about five." He proposed.

I rolled my eyes for a moment, trying to recall my schedule. My mind was always a jumble, mostly filled with daydream space. I couldn't always remember my schedule accurately... But I was almost certain that I was open for five. "Yeah, sure. I'll see ya then."

The old man laughed over the phone, "Great! Haha, it'll be a blast. Hey, I gotta let ya go Claud-Claud. Have a good night, I'll see ya!"

I tried saying goodbye, but he hung up the phone before the words got out. I suppose Stardime didn't care much for formality. What a strange name, anyways. Come to think of it nearly none of the people who tried out went by their real name, or even a name that could have been taken as real. Joker, Zen, Stardime? I wondered why, but knew I would find no answer. When I wrote I always published under my real name after all.

While it was normal for me to stay up until the sun came up writing, I closed my laptop after finishing that pesky sentence. I'll be honest actually- I finished up the whole paragraph. But I had a big day tomorrow, and I knew I had to get some sleep.

After all, I had to make sure this Zen kid was really worth enough to make that rift between Choi and I. I didn't worry much though, because I was already almost certain he was.


	2. Cold Weather

Unless I have some sort of meeting to attend, I am almost never awake and out of bed before ten. Normally it'll be later than that, but sometimes I decide to be proactive and wake up in the A.M.

Even though there was the lingering anxiety about dinner, I still managed to snooze all the way until noontime. Of course it took me an extra thirty minutes before I felt comfortable leaving the soft warmth of my bed so I wasn't up and about until around 12:30. It was common for me to skip breakfast anyways. I opened up my refrigerator and reached in for a pre-made salad I purchased the day previous.

My hand froze. _I have to be hungry at dinner, it would be rude not to eat a lot when I am there._

I shrugged. One meal had already been skipped, it wouldn't kill me to skip another one. There was a more pressing matter anyways. I shifted to autopilot as I slipped into the normal wake up routine. Shower, dressing, morning relaxation… Nothing of any vast importance. It was acceptable for me to go into my world of daydreams now.

My phone lit up again. There she was, my lovely girlfriend. Twas a shame that she lived so far away. It was also a shame that I wasn't of the same species.

Being a dragon in this day and age was such a drag. We had this code of laws that restricted us from going outside at all. There were these men, the Dragonkeepers, who guarded our caves and made sure we never went out under any circumstances. They were also the ones who brought us anything we needed, since we were not able to hunt. While the top priority was to bring us the necessities of dragon life, the nicer ones would take requests for more worldly things.

It has been this way for many years, at least that is what I have been told. We were hardly half the species we used to be. When I was a young dragon I would always ask the Keepers to bring me storybooks about dragons. I was confused though, because every story depicted dragons with these vast wings. They were huge creatures, forces to be reckoned with. The reality of dragonhood has changed dramatically due to our enslavement to our Keepers.

Not in my entire life had I ever met a dragon with wings, nor have I met a dragon that weighed more than three-hundred pounds. In essence, we were extremely large lizards nowadays, about the size of a pony. The Keepers were a secretive bunch though, so none of us were even sure if those mighty dragons ever actually existed or if they were the product of human imagination based on our species.

I liked to think we were once so proud. Living here, trapped animals doomed to never leave the darkness, was a bleak thing.

Sadie made it much more bearable. A few months back one of the Keepers, a young one named Leon, slipped me an iPhone. It took me awhile to get my scaley hands adept at texting but I picked it up quickly enough. I met Sadie on a tumblr that was dedicated to love for dragons. We had the most lovely conversations, with her going on and on about how she just wished dragons were real. She had this fantasy of riding on a dragon's back and being flown across the whole world. I mean really, what a cool dream! It was a little melancholic for me to hear though, since we don't exactly have wings anymore… I couldn't dare break her heart and tell her that.

Naturally she had no clue I was a dragon. As far as my Californian rose knew, I was a teenage boy living somewhere out in Norway. Which was kind of the truth, I was a male dragon living in the frigid cold of the far North. She knew my real name too, Drage. Which literally means dragon in Norwegian. My parents were not the most creative dragons in the horde.

My gleaming emerald eyes scanned over the screen. Sadie always left the most darling good-morning messages.

 _Hello, my lovely Drage. I hope you have a lovely day. When you look up to the skies tonight, I hope a dragon is racing among the stars. 3_

 _You know, I love you as much as the dragons that brought us together. You understand me so completely, so deeply… I love you so much. Jeg elsker deg? Is that how you say I love you in Norwegian? You told me and I keep forgetting. I am so forgetful sometimes…_

 _I can't talk much today. We are having these standardized tests today and I have to sit in homeroom for_ _ **five hours**_ _taking them. It blows. Do you have tests like that in Norway? I heard that Europe isn't as weird about standardized tests… I wish I lived there. Mostly because I wanna be closer to you. Cali is too far… ):_

 _Well, I am getting on the bus now. If you feel down today, let me know. I'll always be your strong dragon lady, okay? I might be far but I will do my best to protect you. 333_

 _You'd do the same, after all. You are so brave. I love you so much…. I'll talk to you later. Bye!~_

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

I slammed my fist against the white walls of my shower. My eyes felt tired. My body felt numb, but deep down I was angry. Unfortunately my heart didn't have very sensitive receptors, so I felt no burning in my chest despite how mad I was. I wish I could feel things like that.

The hot shower was still running. My face felt clean and I was aware I had already cleansed it. I brought the hand I didn't throw at the wall to my head. Foam. I still needed to rinse out the product.

"Why must I live this way? This is _awful._ The money isn't worth it."

My daydreaming is not pretty. Sure, it allows me to string some beautiful words and spin out a praised novel. There is a hefty price for that though, constant emotional turmoil.

The water in the shower was hot. My skin was red from it even. But I felt so cold.

I stepped back from the steady blast of water coming from my shower head, opting to just stand and stare down at the floor below me. My feet were a bright cherry color from the intense warmth of the shower. My vision was blurry, but it wasn't just normal blurry vision. I had glasses and obviously I could not see well without them. But this blurry was a different, more familiar one. The blurry that happened when I tried to face the turmoil of my daydreams.

The running theory I have on my excessive daydreaming is that I have never been able to cope with things in my life, even if it was simply a minor occurance. I daydream to avoid coping at all. Therefore, it isn't even a coping mechanism, it is just a complete avoidance of coping whatsoever. Sometimes I got mad that I daydreamed so much though, and you can't exactly daydream to cope with your anger about daydreaming. That is when what I call "the blurry" happens. I know it is a childish name, but I have been dealing with this since I was nine, cut me a break. Not all the names I give things are going to be earth shattering, I came up with it when I was still young.

Anyways, the blurry happens when I don't allow myself to daydream and I have nothing around to distract me from daydreaming and the blurry. Basically, my vision just goes completely blurred and my mind goes to this blank place and I don't think of anything at all. I don't move a muscle, I am frozen. The world around me is numb, and so is my mind. I actually hate the blurry more than I hate daydreaming. When I daydream, I am at least thinking.

The worst thing about the blurry is that you are only half-present. You know that you can snap out of it and resume your day, but your soul really doesn't want that to happen. You know that you are strong enough to reject the desires of your soul, but who wants to do that? It all means that you basically end up staring off into space for an indefinite amount of time until you are able to break the blurry or you retreat back into daydreaming. It really is horrific, a complete and total revocation of sentient life within you.

But I couldn't live with the blurry today. I had things to do.

Despite not coping at all for most of my life, I was beginning to start forming coping mechanisms. Better late than never I guess. Google helped a lot for advice with this sort of thing, because I would never admit that I probably needed therapy. The thought of sharing this battle with someone else was embarrassing. I could never tell anyone, it brought too much shame. No one would even understand. They would surely dismiss it as being creative, I am a writer after all. On top of that I was trying to build my reputation up and my fans did not need to catch of the fact that I was completely looney.

"The floor is white. My feet are red. The water is clear." The best way to get myself out of the blurry was to describe my surroundings outloud. It brought me closer to the world around me, and made me have to think and observe things. It forced the blurry to erase itself. "The towel to the right of me is blue. The wallpaper is pink. The tiles are mint green. The shower curtain is blue and it has yellow ducks on it. I am here. I am present. I have blue eyes. I have brown hair. I am seventeen. My name is Claudia."

While my vision still naturally sucked, I was here once again. I let out a sigh of relief. I hated the blurry.

I stepped forward again and allowed the lather in my hair to be rinsed. "The water is running on my foamy hair, cleaning it. I'm standing in the shower. I am here. I am not Drage the Dragon, I do not live in his world and I do not wish to live in his world."

From the way I was talking, you might think that I have a problem discerning reality from fiction. That isn't true. While I do hear voices in my head, they bend to my will and I understand that they are not reality. That should probably be a comforting fact to me, since it meant I was somewhat sane. It wasn't. Because it meant that I was okay with being detached from reality and had no real excuse to be so detached.

"It's okay, Claudia. You can't help it. You've always been this way. It's totally fine, it helps you make a living. You aren't totally miserable…" I muttered, voice resonating throughout the shower. I was quite fortunate I didn't live with anyone, what with all the rambling I did. Granted I blamed my issues with daydreaming for my inability to get a boyfriend. Or obtain any extremely close friends. Choi was the closest thing I had to a true friend and she was fifteen years older than me.

I kept my eyes closed, letting the warm water wash over my skin. At least my body felt clean. My mind always felt dirty for all those daydreams, even if most of them weren't obscene in nature. _Most_ of them, at least. Lately they were pure enough because I didn't find the idea of my character, a dragon, being in such a situation to be appealing.

Without my daydreams, I didn't have much to think about. Since I didn't have anything else to wonder about, I started analyzing my situation out loud.

I could hardly hear my own words as the stream of the shower rained down on my head, hindering my senses, but I didn't need to hear it. Talking distracted me from daydreaming. Daydreaming could progress my story for sure, but you have to realize that it takes a lot longer to write out a daydream than it is to have a daydream. I am way ahead of the written story in my daydreams…

"Cmon. It'll be alright. You have a really good distraction lined up today. Stardime talks a lot so you'll probably have to be focused on him. Actors are supposed to be outgoing and the entire room is going to be filled with them. It'll be easy. You'll be able to avoid it. You're strong, right?" Water ran down my face, stinging my still-closed eyes with the shampoo in my hair. My voice was strained from the discomfort, but I would be done soon enough.

My shower went that way, me muttering assurances to myself as I cleaned my body. A few years back, when the daydreaming didn't bother me, my hygiene was far from top-priority. While I've always struggled with acne, my face was practically a hive for it back then. My hair was always oily and unkept, and the few times I attempted to wear cosmetics I ended up looking atrocious. When I realized that I cared more about the daydreams than real life, I made an effort to work on my appearance. I figured that since daydreams are idealized, I would love myself more if I was a little closer to ideal.

I didn't love myself any more than I did back then. It didn't work. But I guess I felt a little more productive so I kept up the routine.

It was cold when I stepped out of the shower, so I quickly reached for that towel and wrapped it around my shivering body. It was early January still so the weather outside was frigid. Even though I kept my apartment well-heated, the chill always found a way into my sensitive bones. What a pain, I wasn't able to feel most emotions easily but I could feel this prickly ice-feeling so easy.

As I grabbed some unfolded clothes from my pile of clean laundry, my phone rang. With nothing but a towel on and a sweater in hand, I approached it. It was Choi.

Naturally I picked up for her. "Hey, C-c-Choi." I shivered. For once, my stutter was not awkwardness but an appropriate reaction to chill.

"Hey, Claudia. Just checking up on how that new book is going. How many words in are you?" She implored, yawning loudly right after. Choi and I had the waking-up-late habit in common.

I looked up to the ceiling above me, biting my lip. Not remembering the exact word count, I produced the last one I could accurately remember. "31,430. I'm like seven chapters in."

"And how is the plot going? I know you are totally spontaneous when it comes to this stuff but..."

I shrugged. "It's going. Drage is about to do something completely stupid, but I won't spoil it. Sadie is going to go through something bad. Conflict blah blah blah, resolution blah, love blah blah blah."

Choi let out a small laugh. "You don't sound very enthused about this book."

To be entirely truthful, I wasn't. A dragon falling for a teenage girl? What a stupid concept. It was something a washed up writer would do when they couldn't form interesting ideas anymore. Even if it was a good idea, I was just sick of being a slave to my daydreams. As much as the concept bored me the daydreams kept me pulled in, like Sadie and Drage's stupid story was some sort of weird drug. It was frustrating. But unlike what I hear from a lot of writers, I don't require passion to produce good work. All of my books so far have been devoid of actual passion and were bestsellers. The whole passion thing was hogwash.

Even knowing how futile passion was, I still wished to feel it. How odd.

I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of my thoughts. I wasn't counting the seconds or anything, but I knew I had just left Choi with a long pause. My incessant thoughts made me prone to doing things like that, often enough that Choi was probably accustomed to it. The thought that she was probably used to my awkward nature made me cringe a little. I truly was a blabbering idiot.

"I mean, it's okay," I sighed, leaning up on the countertop. "I just think it's kind of stupid for a dragon to love anyone."

Choi paused, as if she expected to hear more. "Wait, that's your only problem with it?"

"Well, yeah." I began moving back towards my pile of laundry. It was frigid in there, holding up in simply a towel was not going to suffice. As I rummaged for a good set of underwear and jeans, I continued my conversation. "I've never met a dragon but I'm sure they probably don't experience love the way humans do. And even if they did, why love a human? It was a stupid idea."

A gentle sigh prevaded. "You beat yourself way more than you realize with these stories. You write fiction. It isn't supposed to seem real. And being honest, your writing is so phenomenal you could write a book about the life of a blade of grass and people would still line up to read it. Give yourself more credit."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

"I have to go now, but don't forget that. You've always acted down ever since I met you and I try not to pry. But I worry about you. You're seventeen and famous, but awkward as hell. I know the pressure doesn't help… But people adore you okay? Bye." Without giving me a chance to throw in any more words, she hung up. It was fine though, because I still didn't have anything to say.

My parted lips allowed a long exhale to escape. I went about getting dressed, but as normal my mind was not focused on my actions. This time, I wasn't daydreaming though.

Choi was probably right about people adoring me. I recalled articles I read online praising my abilities despite my young age. I remembered the book signings, waves of people screaming their lungs out at the prospect of meeting me. People adored me, sure. But I had never really adored anything so I didn't quite understand the magnitude of that. I did not even adore my salvation, these novels I wrote. Certainly I did not adore my own life.

She made me a bit mad with all that downer stuff though. Choi hinted frequently that she thought I was depressed, because I wasn't very talkative and when I did speak it often wasn't rainbow-and-butterfly positive. I was quite monotone and grey. To be frank, I was a boring person and the only thing that made me appealing was the daydreams that I spun into books. When people loved me, they loved the thing I hated the most; the daydreams.

"Well, I might be delusional. But I look cute enough in this outfit." Material things, things I could understand because you could hold them. Emotions were impossible to grasp sometimes. But clothes? They were always in reach. Most people who knew of my greed would probably shame me for it, but I found no shame. I was just grateful to find something I could appreciate that was not a dancing illusion in my head.

I turned in my mirror. When the money flowed in after my first book's explosion Choi and some fashion experts went out with me on a massive clothing haul. My appearance was revolutionized as a result. This set of clothing was purchased during that haul. It consisted of the baby-blue skater skirt, paired off with a pastel pink hoodie that had a fluffy sheep resting on it. I felt warm in it, I felt cute. It was a simple pleasure. I enjoyed it.

Since today held a somewhat special occasion, I headed off to the bathroom to prepare my hair and make-up. My thoughts remained quite bleak and deep, and eventually melded back into daydreams about my next book. I stayed there for quite a while, with glazed over eyes, not paying much attention to how I curled my hair or winged my eyeliner because Sadie's test at school suddenly took priority in my head.

I will spare details of the daydream this time. If this tale was woven with every daydream I had, no one would ever hear of me. That also means I can never fully express just how much they controlled my life. My life faded behind those daydreams after all. But no one wants the story of a delusional girl. Even I hate that story.

At some point in time I had shoved my phone in the waistband of my skirt, because I felt it vibrate again shortly after my look was complete. Heh, I was popular today. I immediately fished it out and slammed on the answer key.

"Hello Claudia!" It was, no doubt, Stardime. His voice was never not laced with enthusiasm. Or alcohol, for that matter. "I just wanted to check and see if you were still going to show up tonight. I forgot to tell you what restaurant we were gonna meet up at too, so if you are coming I should probably tell you.."

I nodded. "Yeah, I am going. Where is it at?"

"This place called The Han Family Eatery. Real fancy. It is pretty expensive to be honest, but Zen has an acquaintance there so we get it for cheap. Apparently the owner's son is a pretty big fan of your work, so you might get it for free if you play your cards right and act suave." He explained. It was kind of hard to hear him though… Come to think of it, I think he was hosting a rehearsal as he spoke to me. I could hear loud voices in the background. What was he doing, multitasking like that? The performance was much more important than my presence at some restaurant. Hell, I hardly carried myself with any presence.

His comment on acting suave made me laugh. Clearly, Stardime did not know me well. If he did he would know well that I was the opposite of suave. I couldn't act smooth to save my life, let alone get a free meal. "Haha, we'll see about that free meal. I'll be there no matter what though."

"What the hell was that, Luna! You've run through this scene a million times, you have no excuse to be faltering like that!" I could assume that wasn't directed to me… My suspicions had been correct. He was wasting his time on a phone call with me instead of working on my production.

I hung up. For once, I lacked the social grace to even really recognize the rudeness of hanging up like that. But I also remembered the didn't bother with formalities like that from our conversation last night. He had clearly spoken his peace and I had nothing more to say.

My gaze lingered on the end call screen to check the time. Only 2:15… I had quite some time before I had to leave, and despite having slept in I felt the lull of sleep call me once again.

As I made my way to the couch to take a nap, a few things crossed my mind. Mostly I was just turning back over old theories about why people would daydream so much. All my research was Google-based so most of it was not entirely credible, but some of it made sense.

One of the theories out there was that if someone daydreamed a lot when they were awake, it might be a sign that they aren't getting enough sleep. If you don't have a chance to dream in the dream world, they end up leaking into your time in reality and that is why the daydreams end up so vivid and inescapable. I wasn't quite sure I believed it entirely, but I was always tired anyways so taking frequent naps surely wouldn't hurt me.

I curled up in my warm blanket, resting my head on the arm of the couch. It wasn't the most comfortable pillow but I was the type of person that could sleep just about anywhere, so long as it was warm. The cold and I did not get along very well.

As I closed my eyes, I kept thinking. Why did I want to stop the dreaming so badly? It made me a comfortable living.

Part of it was because it made me feel wrong all the time. Like earlier, in the shower. There is no actual problem with wasting time in the shower, but I felt guilty because I wasn't sure that was what normal people did in the shower. Wasn't I supposed to sing, or something like that? Surely I was not meant to zone out entirely and focus on a dragon's love life.

If I was only daydreaming in the shower though, this wouldn't be a problem. I had that outburst because it was almost a constant occurrence. Even if someone was having a conversation with me, I could shut them out and daydream and just give them autopilot answers. Autopilot answers are rude and boring though, nobody liked me for them.

While I never admitted it, I did want to be normal. I wanted to have friends and do petty things that somehow other people enjoyed. I wanted to have a passion for something. I wanted to feel all those feelings I had been missing out on. Normalcy was a paradise that I could only dream of reaching. It pissed me off when people bragged about how weird or unique they were, acting like it is a good thing. Being an outcast isn't cool, it's heartbreaking. I would never brag of it. Anyone who is actually strange would never speak of it in such a praised light.

These thoughts ran through my mind until, inevitably, the daydreams took hold once again and I no longer mattered. But when I finally was asleep, no dreams came to comfort me.

I woke up a few hours later, I knew that. My hair was already a mess from that nap… What a hassle. My appearance wasn't grand but I was naturally quite ugly, so I had to put in a lot of effort to just look presentable.

My phone was the most useful mirror I owned, so I opened up my photo app and looked up at my reflection. My cosmetics were still in order, but my hair… Oh gosh.

I sighed and headed off to the bathroom, taking a solid thirty minutes to brush and re-curl the ratty mess that had formed on my head. That couch was so tiny, it was a wonder I had been able to flip around enough to get my hair in such a state. But I always found a way. Lay me down on silk, my hair will still be a lion's mane come time I wake.

A few weeks ago I had bought this cute electronic clock for my bathroom. The digits were this neon pink color that adored. I might have admired the color if my eyes did not land on the time in the middle of my hair repair operation.

"Shit." I muttered, my hair still twisted by the curling iron. It was 4:55. That restaurant was easily twenty minutes away from my house… I had to get going. But first I made sure to turn off that curling iron. I've almost burned down my apartment too many times by nearly forgetting. Another side effect of going into autopilot when daydreaming- you almost always forget to turn things off and manage to burn or harm something.

I grabbed everything I needed in a rush. Despite Stardime informing me that I could probably get the meal for free if I pulled something cute, I knew damn well I wasn't in the mood to be so bold. I would have to pay, so I double checked to make sure I had my wallet. Nothing else mattered. My driving was piteous, I would simply walk my way over so there was no need to fetch any keys. On top of that my apartment was situated in a privileged side of town so I didn't worry about it being busted into. Truth be told I left it unlocked due to laziness more times than I ever bothered locking it up.

To make my commute a little more interesting, I popped a pair of earbuds in and cranked up my music. Music was always a trigger for daydreaming. It is hard to be fully present when a beat is encouraging you to drift off into another space of mind. But as long as I didn't get hit by a car crossing the road, it didn't matter much to me if I daydreamed. It was probably good to get it out of my system before I arrived. My daydreams during my walk were, of course, about Sadie. She couldn't pay much attention to that test with all those thoughts about Drage running through her head. The math section was especially tough. Without literal words to distract her from her love, she simply doodled on the scratch sheet and completely fell away from taking the exam. It didn't even matter that the exam was important anymore. Drage took priority.

 _She's a lot like me,_ I thought. But I shook my head at that. Sadie was distracted by love, I was distracted by delusion. Those two things had nothing in common.

I made it to the restaurant a solid twenty-five minutes late. My phone buzzed on and on, but I really didn't want to face Stardime about my lateness. I was sort of a public figure now so I could pull some fashionably late bullshit. Granted I didn't fit the glamorous public figure stereotype that would pull such an act… Oh well. Stardime didn't know me well enough to know any better of it.

All hyped up and ready to go, I removed my headphones and headed towards the front entrance. But not before I noticed just how packed it was in there, and certainly not before I noticed how fancy it was in there.

From the large windows, I could see at least three chandeliers and those were only the ones I bothered counting before the anxiety took over. The carpet was this luxurious red color, like it was made of some exclusive material and not just some run of the mill stuff. The rest of the floor was marble, and I knew that stuff wasn't cheap. The waiters and waitresses were dressed to the nines. I was wearing a sweater with a freaking sheep on it. I was not in my place.

Instead of walking on into a place I had promised I would be, I diverted my path and walked towards the back. I needed to calm down. My chest was tight with feelings of anxiety… And of course I forgot my inhaler at home. God forbid I had an asthma attack induced by fear while I wore this stupid outfit in front of this elegant restaurant-

"Hey!"

I felt my heart nearly jump out of my chest. Being as how I was consumed by my own feelings, the world melted away for a moment there. I was not prepared to hear a voice.

Stunned, I turned to the voice with my mouth gaped open. I felt like I was being hunted down by a scary animal, like I had to fight or run away right in that moment. But all I did was freeze.

But I knew this face. Not well, but I knew it. It was the kid that I stuck for the main role. Ben? I wasn't good with names, unless they were characters from my daydream world. I could probably name off everyone in Sadie's extended family but a real name passed me by. Nonetheless, I didn't know this guy well so I was still panicked. I closed my mouth though and resigned to just staring at him.

Actors are confident people by any standard, certainly much more confident than a kid like me. Ren… Or whatever his name was, was not an exception to that rule. He smiled at me and just went right into talking, ignoring my dumbfounded look.

"You're that girl who wrote the production, right?" He asked, leaned up against the back wall of the restaurant. I wondered for a moment why he was there, but before I even could collect myself to ask I realized why. A freshly-lit cigarette was held between his fingers, telling the story. No one would dare smoke inside such a respectable looking establishment.

I nodded. My brain was still confused by everything and if I would have tried to speak, it would have came out all mushy and incomprehensible.

He took a drag on his cigarette. I suppose most people with asthma would be bothered, but I couldn't really judge. Half the reason my asthma was so bad was because I smoked myself, albeit infrequently. "Cool. It probably wasn't a huge deal to you, but I wanted to thank you for casting me. I know that Joker was there and he's a pretty big deal… Why didn't you pick him, anyways?"

I didn't think my words through at all, and I spoke too fast when I replied. "His laugh was stupid."

Len raised an eyebrow. "His laugh?"

"Uh, yeah." I nodded quickly, "I… I have a really specific way I like my characters to be. I'm really detailed with them I guess, or something like that. I had this idea on how I thought Hans would laugh and when Joker laughed… Well, his laugh was kind of a joke." Damn. Was that supposed to be funny? I regretted that lame comment as soon as it escaped my lips. There was an urge to go slam my head into the wall a few times, but that was broken when the albino actually laughed at it.

"Well that's a good thing, haha!" He snickered, a trail of smoke following his wavering hand. "I'll laugh for you anytime you want then. Your name is Claudia, right?"

"Yeah."

With the hand that was void of a cigarette, he held out to shake my hand. I gulped. I hated touching people, but quickly forced myself. My grip was pitiful but most people didn't expect girls to have firm handshakes anyways. That was probably the only thing I could thank the patriarchy for.

Even though it probably wasn't true, I felt like he was judging me. His introduction was so warm but I couldn't shake the feeling. Granted, I felt like people judged me all the time, like they could see in my head and know I wasn't normal. "I'm Zen, but you probably knew that. I won't be too offended if you wind up calling me Hans though."

What the heck was I supposed to say? I had already met him technically, so would "Nice to meet you," be weird? I said it anyways and he just nodded, letting go of my hand.

He took his spot back up on against the wall, taking another drag on that cigarette. Being around that kind of made me want to smoke, but I didn't exactly know a good way to ask for it. Especially since he probably knew I was a kid.

"You know, Stardime is waiting for you in there. He's been rambling on about you all the time at practice. Looks up to you a lot." Zen cast a sideways glance at me, "Are you seriously seventeen though? Some of the words you use are pretty fancy so I don't really believe it. I think Stardime is just messing with us."

I made sure to not meet his gaze. Eye contact was the bane of my existence. "Yeah, I'm seventeen."

"Really? Let me see some ID then, miss." His tone got all serious, and since I can't take a joke to save my life, I actually started digging through my purse to find it. Zen laughed. Not in the way he did for Hans, but his real laugh. It was nice too. A lot nicer than Joker's…

In a rush, I shut my purse and kept my eyes on the ground. I tried to make my voice sound angry, but I came out sounding like an upset baby. "I don't take jokes very well… Don't do that."

"You alright? Didn't mean to laugh at you like that, sorry…" He apologized.

I nodded slowly. "It's okay. I'm not really mad.."

There was a moment of silence, and the cold really set in with me. That skirt I had on wasn't distracting with how short it was, but it was certainly cold enough to not give any protection from the late fall weather. I shivered, walking towards the back set of stairs next to Zen to take a seat.

"Everyone is waiting in there, ya know. They all really want to meet you." He commented, flicking his now completed cigarette to the ground before stomping it out. And he didn't miss a beat bring his pack out again and popping another one in his mouth like candy.

I cast a sideways glance at his cigarettes, debating if I should ask for one or not. They did always calm my nerves, but Stardime might be suspicious of a seventeen year old girl smelling strongly of smoke…

Hardly noticing that I had been staring, he quickly started shoving his cigarette back in the package. "Sorry. Shoulda asked if you were okay with me smoking."

"No, it's fine!" I shook my head quickly, "Actually, I was just wondering if I could have one…"

His bright eyes got wide for a moment. "Yeah, sure. Didn't take you for the smoking type though." Immediately he brought the pack back out and fetched two cigarettes, handing one to me. I noticed that he moved extremely fast getting them out again. He must have really wanted that second cigarette.

I shrugged, holding the thin cigarette in between my fingers as I waited for him to bring me the light. "Is there even a type for it?"

He took a moment to respond, lips occupied by the action of lighting his cigarette. Zen let out a long exhale before responding. "Not exactly. You just seem too cheery for it. Most people who are rich like you at a young age and dress so vibrantly normally don't have a need for this."

"I thought actors knew better than to judge something by first glance." I shrugged, holding my hand up to him to borrow his lighter. He obliged, passing his cheap lighter down to me.

As I lit my cigarette, he spoke again. "We aren't always so good about not judging, I guess. But whatever. Kinda cool that you smoke though, we have something to talk about."

"Yeah, like the fact that you smoke some cheap shit." A small laugh escaped me before I took a short drag on mine. I wasn't a part of the population of smokers that let a lot of smoke in my lungs. I breathed in once and mostly let the stuff resonate in my mouth. The ashy taste was comforting to me. Of course- enough of it ended up in my lungs to be dangerous. But I didn't really care about that.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and what do you smoke normally? Expensive cigars, Ms. Rich Author?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm not an old man! I just haven't had this brand in a long time. Old friend of mine used to smoke em all the time because they were cheap."

"Maybe if you get them to pay me more, I'll let you bum a nicer brand." He laughed, casting me a cocky smile.

I tapped the ashes off the end of my cigarette as I spoke. "Wasn't my choice what you all got paid. You weren't a good choice financially though."

He nearly spit his cigarette out of his mouth amidst his laughter. I was quite fond of his laugh. His natural one, and the one he used for Hans. Either one was quite charming.

"Pfft, I'm sorry. That was funny. The only thing I had on Joker was that I would do this for a lot less money than he would. I'm a nobody out here. Well, not quite, but I'm no Joker."

Shaking my head, I corrected him. "Nah. Joker wanted to do it for free. He liked the script that much apparently. So yeah, it cost more for me to hire you on but I liked you more."

Zen cocked his head. "What, he was gonna do it for free? Your script was good, but getting such a well-known guy for free… That's insane."

"I didn't really think much of it." I paused to take another breath of smoke, "Then again, I don't really get starstruck. I'm nervous around everyone equally. And his laugh did seriously suck. He wasn't Hans material."

"Damn. I've never seen someone shut down Joker so quick. Especially in favor of me." His red eyes went away from me and up to the cloudy sky above us. It was cold outside. So cold that even if our lungs weren't expelling smoke, we could still see our breaths. "I'm seriously grateful for the opportunity. Stardime told me a lot of people got mad at you for not choosing him, so thanks."

"Well, my publisher said it was a bad move. I don't have many people in my life to be mad at me about it. Joker wasn't really happy with me laughing at his performance, but that's to be expected. The reaction wasn't that harsh at all." I had a bad habit of belittling situations like that, simply because most real reactions just didn't have any affect on me. My daydreams and what occurred within them mattered much more to my emotional state.

He snapped his gaze back to me, eyes wide. "Wait. You laughed at Joker? You're seriously bold. He doesn't take that sort of thing lightly."

"Good for him. I'm just an insignificant teenage writer. He'll get over my opinions. Isn't he like, twenty three?"

Zen shook his head. "No, he's nineteen."

"He's probably still richer than me. My opinion ultimately means nothing to him." I dismissed it. I did recall Choi telling me his age again though… It had just been so unimportant to me that I forgot.

He flicked his ashes on the railing to the side of him, still grinning. "Well, your opinion meant a lot to me. Not to sound weird, but I really wanted to be in this. It's really good. But you're also a pretty big deal, and it means a lot to my career."

"I'm not that big of a deal." Was all I could manage to mutter before I took another puff.

"You're kidding, right? They called you Shakespeare when you were fourteen. You **are** a big deal." He gave me this shocked look, surprised I didn't realize the magnitude of my work.

Again, I really didn't understand it. I wrote down words about delusions I had. It was more shameful to me than anything else. "I don't read much of Shakespeare, but what I have read I didn't like much. So it wasn't that big of a compliment to me," I laughed a little, "I get the point of it though, they really liked my first book. I just don't know why everyone likes it so much. It wasn't groundbreaking or anything."

"I read it." He admitted, "I'm not much of a reader, and I don't analyze stuff like this unless it's for a production… But I think they like it because your characters are so real. It's almost as if they have souls. Hard to believe they only exist on paper."

I wished that was true. I wished they only lived on paper. But they haunted the corners of my mind nearly every waking hour, they pillaged my brain and took away any part of me that would have been worth anything. They took away a personality. Even when I spoke now, I knew I was mundane. Zen probably was sick of talking to me. I would be.

With all that in my mind, I started to feel sick to my stomach. For a few moments I felt like we had a good conversation going, but those words reminded me that I wasn't capable of a good conversation. I wasn't daydreaming then but I knew that was where my mind wanted to be. It was a gross addiction that you thought about all the time. But unlike a real drug, you couldn't go to rehab to stay away from your own mind. So you were just stuck. I was stuck, being boring and annoying and wishing forever that I could run away and daydream under the covers in my dark apartment. I didn't even want to be here right now. Why did I bother coming, I would only annoy my entire cast.

My stomach felt awful, like it dropped to the floor. I wasn't hungry. The hand holding my cigarette felt heavy too. Even though it wasn't completely burned out, I allowed it to drop and stomped it out. My vision was blurry again. The blurry was gonna come back, I knew it. Didn't Zen just say something though? Did it matter? I annoyed him anyways, it wouldn't matter if I responded. Maybe he would be happy if I didn't. Why did I ask him for a cigarette when it was obvious he didn't like me? I shouldn't have wasted his precious cigarettes.

All the while I was having this crisis, Zen was silent, smoking away. I knew he must have hated me. Sure, he thanked me for the part but that was because he was a normal person and was nice. He wasn't crazy like me. I wanted to go home. I needed to go. I bolted upright, a fuzzy feeling hitting me due to how quick I had stood up.

"You alright?"

Everything was blurry. Autopilot. I nodded.

"We should go in. I'm kinda hungry now."

I nodded again. Autopilot.

The elegant place that I had been able to describe in detail during my anxiety just minutes later was blurred. I knew the place was gold, ivory, and red. Zen's pale hair stuck out so I just relied on the waving of his ponytail to guide me to the seat. My mind wasn't there at all. I wasn't daydreaming yet, but I wasn't present here either. A mental purgatory.

The seat next to what I could assume was a blurry outline for Stardime was open at the end of the table. I waddled my way into my seat, eyes fixated on the white tablecloth in front of me. I heard Stardime say my name to everyone and I muttered something not important enough for my brain to even process. I hated this feeling. The blurry was always horrible, but why the hell did it have to spring up in public like this?

You know, that dinner was probably very interesting. I probably could have learned a lot about the people I picked. My hearing gets all out of whack when the blurry starts and I could hear people laughing but it sounded like they were in another room. I could hear enough to respond, but as always, they were pedestrian responses without much thought put into them. I recalled Stardime explaining the origin of his name but I quickly forgot it despite how interesting the story was. Zen talked a lot. Everyone else did too, but I was so out of the moment that as soon as their names fell upon my ears, they were gone.

The food even tasted bland. It was probably really good. It was expensive. My bill was high, but not high enough for me to remember and not high enough for me to snap out of it and act all cutesy to get that discount that Stardime mentioned. The blurry had such a grip on me that I didn't even remember the discount existed in that moment.

Vaguely I could recall excusing myself and I was outside of the restaurant. No one was with me. I could daydream to my heart's content and no one would be around to hold me back. I knew that once I daydreamed until I was done, I would be able to return to a somewhat normal state. Never would I ever be fully normal. Life would always be moments like this, missing out because every moment that I wasn't daydreaming was a moment I spend waiting for my chance to get away and daydream. Sometimes I was able to be halfway present, and sometimes the blurry took over like it had that entire dinner.

Like the way I came, I daydreamed the entire walk back. It was a miracle that I never got hit by a car. God must want me around for some reason, granted I don't see what purpose he could have for someone so damaged. God couldn't even be involved in the making of someone like me. God would never let someone be so far away from the life he worked so hard to make for us. Maybe that was why it was so hard for me to believe in God. I wanted to. But I could never think about my beliefs long enough to decide if I believed or not, I would always drift away somehow.

I daydreamed about Sadie and Drage again. Drage had a dream about meeting Sadie. It was all mushy and warm in my head but in reality my skin was cold. It was so damn cold right now. If my senses were more aware I would have been shaking. Maybe I was. I didn't notice. I only noticed Drage's emotions, and they didn't even really exist.

The daydreams stopped pretty shortly after I was home. I make it seem like this is constant, but let me explain it in full. Most of the time I am alone, and when I am alone I daydream. Sometimes I get mad about it and that's when the blurry happens. The blurry also can happen if I'm in public and something triggers me to want to daydream or escape from whatever is going on in some way, which is honestly most of the time I'm in public. But for a few moments, I am what I think is normal. When I was talking to Zen for example. Those moments are always simple. But they're the best damn moments I know.

I always get mad after I get blurry in public. This wasn't an exception.

Firstly, I slammed down my purse on the kitchen table and walked over to the window. My hands bolted down on the counter.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I yelled. I'm sure everyone who lived near me didn't appreciate it but I couldn't care less. "I had a chance. I had a chance to have fun and talk to people and be normal. Why did I let it get blurry!"

I clenched my fists, closing my eyes tight. I wanted to feel anger, but it was hard to feel at all. My skin felt all warm now like I'd imagine an angry person would feel, but my heart just felt… Weird. Wasn't I supposed to have a fire in my heart?

"You were doing so good… You talked to Zen about normal things. You made him laugh." Wasn't I supposed to be more angry? I wanted to be enraged. I wanted my eyes to sting with tears and my skin to crawl. But everything I said felt so empty. "It was going so well. Why did it blur? Nothing was wrong. Why does this keep happening to me!?"

I knew the answer. I was crazy. But I didn't like that answer because I couldn't fix it. There had to be something else. Deep down, I knew there was no other answer. I had been researching into it for years. I had some sort of illness and there was not enough research to even bring me a cure with all this money I had now. I was damned. Rich, content, but damned.

The room was spinning, which reminded me of one solution I discovered a few years ago at an event. I'm older looking for my age, and when I was out at a benefit I was passed a few drinks. It started out as some innocent sips of wine, but nowadays I was sunk to my neck in whiskey.

It wasn't even dark yet. It would be below me to get thrashed right now. To be entirely honest, I didn't even like being drunk that much. It made me feel sick and woozy. But for whatever reason it was impossible for me to be blurry or daydream when I was intoxicated. Something about the strong stuff just ripped out the damaged part of my brain and replaced it with this false high for a few hours. I knew it wasn't healthy. But just like with the smoking, I didn't much care.

My eyes were locked with my countertop as I weighed my options. I could face my pain like a normal person and hope to God I didn't start daydreaming to get away from the pain of my shame. Or I could get drunk and not even have to attempt self control.

I was popular though. I didn't have time to think as the knocking on my door rang out.

"Who is it? I'm busy." While I did my best to not show my struggle in my tone, I didn't do very well. I sounded miserable, voice creaking out in a depressive groan. I wanted whoever it was to leave me alone and let me be angsty. It was my right as a teenager, after all.

"It's me, Choi."

I rolled my eyes. "You have a key. Why the fuck did you bother knocking?"

The jingle of key opening lock could be heard from the room over. While Choi was unaware of the extent of my issues, she knew better than anyone else did about how rough I was. I was kind of comfortable with her knowing anyways, so I didn't bother attempting to compose myself. Remaining slumped over my kitchen counter, sour look on my face… I felt awful for no real reason. My reasons were simply illusions.

Her heels clicked until I could hear her behind me. "Hey. I felt like something was off with you when we talked today, so I wanted to head over and talk to you."

"I'm a writer. I'm always off." Doing my best to shrug her off, I managed a false laugh.

Another heel click in my direction. "Look, you know I always have a good sense for this sort of thing. I'm worried about you. You've always had rough patches and you never talk about it… I try to respect that, but you do know you don't have to be alone. If you need help, you can tell me."

I almost let out a genuine laugh that time. What did she think she was, this grand teller of fortunes? A blind man would be able to see I was not okay. I felt like my delusions were that obvious. At the same time they weren't exactly easy to understand. Even if Choi knew I daydreamed a lot, she wouldn't exactly understand that I used them to feel emotions because I was detached from my own life. I don't think a normal person is capable of understanding that feeling. Abnormal as I was, I didn't think I was even capable of describing it.

"I'm fine. I'm always fine. Always been. You're just convinced I'm sad or whatever, like always." I forced myself to get off my hands and turn to face her, but my body felt sluggish. In my mind, I weighed more than the whole world in that moment.

Choi's expression was… Hard to describe. She was normally constantly upbeat, and when she got mad about something she was sure to express it. But Choi was never deep with her expressions. She was always easy to read, and I liked that since I wasn't acclimated enough to read deeper things. We worked out great. The look she was giving me was more than what I was used to. More than my mind could interpret.

"You were talking to yourself pretty loudly. I know you need to talk to someone else. Talking to yourself won't do anything."

Oh, but she had no idea. If I really wanted to, I could probably pretend that I was talking to Drage or Sadie. It was possible I might even find more comfort in that since they lived in my head and wouldn't be ashamed of how disgusting my mental state was. If I told a real person, they'd institutionalize me. I didn't respond to her, just staring off behind her so I wouldn't have to focus on her words or her face.

She sighed. "I know you hate talking about yourself, but you did tell me that you had an off relationship with your parents. If they hurt you-"

"They didn't." I cut her off with a nonchalant tone. And that was true. They never did anything to hurt me. It was more that they never did anything to help me, either.

Maybe things would be better if one detail about my parents were changed. They were good people and had above average jobs, so home life was alright. They tried their best to be involved with me, up until the end when my issue had become so ba that I never left my room. My relationship with them was strained for sure. Not because they ever beat me or yelled at me, but because they never noticed anything was wrong with me.

Decent of people as they are, neither of them believed that mental illnesses existed. To them, it was all a bunch of hogwash invented by doctors to get people to come in and get drugs and go to expensive therapy. It was possible that I didn't have a mental illness, but I knew damn well that if I would have had access to a therapist when I was younger that my daydreaming would have never got out of hand. But with them controlling my life, therapy or any other sort of help was a pipe dream. I never so much as uttered the word daydream around them. I could recall the days when I would look up how many days until I turned eighteen so I could get help myself.

No kid should ever have to do that. No kid should ever have to tell themselves that they have to endure something like that until they are eighteen because their parents suck. I hated them for it, but since the reason was so personal no one understood why. Most people who hate their parents have better reasons than me, reasons that make more sense. Reasons that a normal person could sympathize with. Reasons that could be explained.

"You don't have to protect them, Claudia. Everytime I try bringing them up you shut down. If they did something bad, you can tell me. They aren't responsible for you anymore. You don't have to worry about reporting them. It'll be okay." She was horrifically mislead. I didn't even know how to start explaining just how off the mark she was.

Shaking my head, I went about correcting her in the most simple way I could. I didn't feel like explaining my issues to her. Even if I tried, she would be the last person to comprehend it. "No, it's nothing. I don't like them but they didn't do anything to me. Their views on life just… They just didn't understand who I was."

Choi's eyes got this soft, understanding look. For a moment I almost felt like she was catching on. There was a glimmer of hope, and then she started speaking.

"Oh, honey… I'm so sorry. I had no idea…," Choi walked to me again, this time so close to me that I nearly expected a hug. "I should have guessed it though, seeing as how your main character in your last book was gay…"

You're fucking kidding me. She thinks I'm emotionally damaged because she thinks I'm gay?

In what was probably the biggest sigh of my life, I looked down to the floor and rubbed the bridge of my nose. She thinks I'm going through all this suffering in the name of sexuality. My parents were grossly transphobic and homophobic, so if I wasn't straight and cisgender I might have had even more problems with them. Fortunately I ended up fitting the social norm and didn't have to deal with whatever hate I would have gotten. I didn't need any more issues with them beyond their disgusting misunderstanding of mental illness.

Now that I thought about it, maybe my parents were actually shit people. I mean, phobic over something as trivial as gender and sexuality and shunning the idea of mental illness? Why did I ever give them credit for anything?

Nonetheless, I corrected Choi. "No, I'm not gay. Look, there is something up between my parents and I but you seriously won't understand it. I don't even want to talk about it. They never did anything illegal to me, so there's no need to report anyone for anything. Just chill out."

There was a long pause, and lots of eye contact. It seemed like she was searching my eyes for any trace of a lie… And while it made me uncomfortable, I wasn't lying. They never straight up abused me or anything. They just didn't realize everything wrong with me. I did my best to keep on a straight face so she'd believe me. Choi had been long-convinced that my parents did something wrong, mostly due to the fact that I hadn't even called them ever since I got out with all my publishing money. To this day I had no desire to even hear their voices, let alone see their faces.

To my relief, she nodded and broke her intense contact. "If you say so, I'll believe you. But if anything ever comes up with them I want you to call me or the police, promise?"

I nodded.

"Good. So, why were you yelling to yourself just now?" Choi inquired.

Shit, I needed a good reason for this. There were a few paths I could take with this, all of them equally far away from the one thing I wouldn't tell her; the truth. I could take a funny path and play on the fact that I screamed fuck quite a few times… Or I could be more serious and just say I was yelling at my neighbors. After all, I hated kids and the folks above me had a whole slew of them. It was pretty believable.

I shrugged. "Oh, you know me. The stupid kids were running all around and annoying me. I try to be nice but I have no patience for bratty kids."

Choi's eyes got a little skeptical, but she didn't voice any protest to my explanation. "Yeah, they are pretty awful." Was all she said. Thank God she believed it.

I crossed my arms across my chest, feeling a little more comfortable about everything now. Once again I had evaded my problems! I would be able to return to my miserable path in life without any external interference. "So, we talked. Anything else you need from me?"

Surprisingly, she nodded. "Yeah. I know we have avoided speaking of it, but it's actually about Joker."

Rolling my eyes, I went into dismissal mode. "I already told you he wouldn't have fit the part, I don't want to fight about this all over again."

"We aren't gonna fight about it. It was your choice, whatever. I still think he would have been better than that no-name, but whatever!" Choi laughed uncomfortably, overusing the word 'whatever'. She had a habit of doing that when she was ticked off about something. "We aren't gonna talk about it, it's so whatever. But Joker wants to talk to you."

"Is there any need for that? He didn't make it in, I have no reason to be talking to him."

Choi shook her head, curly hair bouncing as she did so. She really was a beautiful person. "He wants to talk to you about the part, yes. And I know you probably won't take it away from Zen, but I encourage you to go anyways. If you diss him he might tattle to the media and you need them on your side."

"For one," I started, pacing around my kitchen as I spoke, "It isn't really dissing if I never accept his invitation in the first place. With that aside, why do I care what the media thinks of me?"

Choi laughed, "Um, you're a public figure? Your books won't sell if the masses hate you, dummy."

"I thought image only mattered for singers and stuff. Authors are supposed to be shit people." I cocked my head, not understanding why I had to put on a facade anymore than I already did on a daily basis.

She shook her head. "No, it matters. If this was a smaller deal you could probably take the hit, but Joker is well-known. More so than even you. And on the dissing note….," Choi held a long pause and didn't make eye contact with me. I felt my chest sink, and I nearly guessed what she said before she even got it out of her mouth.

"I already told him you'd meet him for dinner tonight."

I gave her a good, long look. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"What do you mean you already told him I would meet him for dinner? That's a funny joke, Choi…" My voice got stern, making myself clear that she better have been joking. I could tell by her face that she wasn't though.

"Look, I'm sorry! He called me up since he had my number and asked for you… And I was all flustered because I mean, it's Joker, haha, so I told him you could meet him for dinner-" Choi was talking to fast for me to hardly understand, so I cut her off.

"I already ate dinner with the cast. Even if I wanted to, **which I don't,** I wouldn't be able to force myself to eat anything more." I explained, exasperated with the situation.

Her voice got high pitched and panicky, searching for a solution. "I don't know! You could always go throw up… No, that's not a healthy thing to be promoting… You smoke, doesn't that make you hungry? Go smoke like six cigarettes and go!"

I rolled my eyes. My tone became even more heavy, annoyed by her ignorance. "You have that completely wrong. Smoking makes you not want to eat, Choi. And didn't you want me to stop doing that anyways? Public image or whatever."

"Just until you're old enough! The media doesn't want a seventeen year old party girl smoker writing books… You know how your audience is. A bunch of pretentious teenage girls who think they are above partying. You have to pander to that!"

Choi always had a problem with my partying thing. I wasn't huge on parties to be honest. I liked them, but I wasn't good enough at socializing to get the full experience. I mostly just went for good music and alcohol. Otherwise, I just sat in the corner and smoked. Hardly a party girl, just a girl who attended parties.

I shook my head yet again. "Woah woah, what does smoking have to do with partying? I don't party with famous people, anyways, just my friends back in Losertown. No one cares what goes down there."

"Your audience likes to jump to conclusions about things. They stereotype the life out of everyone. They see you smoking and even catch whiff of you being a party person, they'll dismiss you and everything you do as below them." Choi explained, trying desperately to reach me. But as always it went over my head. I didn't care.

I didn't respond, so Choi continued. "We'll have this talk another time, it isn't important. Joker wants you to be at the restaurant by nine, so you have a few hours to go get ready and get hungry."

"Did I ever say I was gonna go? Quit jumping to conclusions. He lost the part fair and square and I'm not going to go talk to him again just because he wants to bribe me with food." The situation was so ridiculous I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Joker had a good career going, he could afford to drop my act.

"I just told you that he is going to be waiting for you, and that you need to go for your image. I know you don't like him but please! As a birthday gift, please." Choi held out the word please and flashed her best puppy dog eyes. She was well aware I was immune so such charms, but clearly was desperate enough to pull them out anyhow.

"Your birthday isn't for another three months." I muttered.

She begged nonetheless. "Please."

I was weak, so I started to consider it. Joker seemed like a bratty little kid himself, but he did have a lot of money so the food would be good. And I was strong enough in my resolution on this that I wouldn't dare give away Zen's party. I didn't know the guy well, but he was nice enough to share a cigarette with me and he fit the part way better anyhow. So really no harm would come from visiting him… And since my life was dedicated almost wholly to daydreaming, it wasn't like it was going to be taking away from my precious time. None of my time was precious. Might as well waste it with an attractive guy desperate for my attention. I nodded.

She flashed me a big lipstick grin. "Thank you, thank you! I'm so happy you are gonna go. Maybe consider what he has to say, too."

"Zen got the part fair. I'm not going to reconsider anything. But since you told the man that I'm going, I won't back down. Don't want your word and reputation to be ruined." I gave her a snarky grin, not taking the situation nearly as serious as she was. To be honest, it wasn't likely she cared how serious I took it. She was just happy I didn't make her look foolish with Joker.

"I'll help you get dressed. I so owe you, Claudia!" She chimed, beaming happy energy. I was confused. Why did I need to change?

"I think what I'm wearing will suffice." I cocked my head, not fond of the idea of changing.

But Choi was obviously not on my side, yet again. "No, he's taking taking you somewhere really fancy. That outfit won't do! Not to mention that you wreak of cigarette smoke…"

I hardly noticed it. I guess I smelled a little different than normal, since Zen didn't smoke was I was used to. Even then, when you smoke for awhile your nose gets numb to the smell.

"So you want me to take a bath too, I suppose."

Choi nodded. "I'll pick out an outfit for you. Be sure to wash your hair too, because that stuff really clings to hair. Wouldn't want you smelling all trashy around such a well-known guy!"

I winced, only because I literally had to bite down on my tongue to keep myself from making a snarky comment. In my opinion, no matter what I looked or smelt like, I would be infinitely more classy than Joker. After all, I wasn't the famous one begging for a part in an only moderately noteable play.

As promised, I went to work getting ready. I didn't care much what I looked like this round, but I put in a good effort nonetheless. Joker and I would be high-profile so it was likely that at least one photographer would catch us and I was supposed to look good on camera. I didn't bother curling my hair as normal, opting to simply dry it out and do it as a simple up-do. But as always, I made sure to straighten my blunt-cut bangs. Those things looked atrocious straight out of the wash.

Choi returned with a black wraparound dress. It was simple, but it showed off things I liked about myself. It flared out just enough to not accentuate my huge thighs, but the dollar dipped low enough to show off a feature I did like; my chest. I only wore it when I felt like being flirty, which also meant I never wore the thing outside of the dressing room. I gave her a look.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to flirt with him a little. He's cute, and close enough to your age." Choi didn't make eye contact when she spoke, which was strange for her. Maybe she felt guilty for picking out that dress.

But since I honestly didn't care, I simply snatched it from her hands. "We'll see. But I'll wear the dress, don't worry about that."

Everything else went smooth. I got the dress on of course, found matching shoes, threw on my make up. Choi sniffed me before I left, which was kind of weird.

"Don't look at me like that!" She protested, defending herself in quick words. "You're the one who smokes like a factory. I wanted to make sure you didn't smell like that anymore." And despite my through scrubbing in the bath, she still forced me to be baptized in perfume before she allowed me to walk out of my own door.

As expected of someone like him, there was a limo waiting for me outside. The first few times I was in a limo, I had been impressed. But after a few years of it, the effect wore off on me. Choi never seemed to get over it.

She was grinning big at the sight of the limo, making sure to lock my door as we both exited my apartment. Her voice was all high-pitched when she spoke, clearly enthused. "I wish I could go too! Some girls would kill to have a date with Joker-"

"This isn't a date." I corrected her, but she just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, party pooper. Just go have fun okay? I'll head home. Text me when you get back. Did you get hungry with all that work you had to do to look good?"

I shook my head. "No. I have a feeling Joker isn't going to make me hungry though."

"Maybe not literally, but maybe in _another_ way." Choi nudged me, giving me a big grin.

Even if I had an appetite, I would have lost it there. Even the idea of that was gross to me. I didn't feel connected enough to anyone to accept something so personal, especially with someone who naturally peeved me off as much as Joker did. I rolled my eyes yet again and walked off, not even gracing her with a proper goodbye.

The walk to his dark limo was not eventful. He noticed my approach and got out of this car, opening up the door for me to get in. The interior was a pretty red, I will say that. I'm weak for the color red.

I was caught up by the color for a moment, pausing before I got in. I regretted that though, because in my pause Joker suddenly placed a hand on my shoulder.

I jolted, forcing my eyes away from the seats to meet his gaze. He had mesmerizing eyes, but there was something off about them. The worst part was that smile. He reminded me of a snake.

"Hello, Claduia. I'm glad that you came out tonight. You won't regret it."

His voice was suddenly so chilling, I wasn't sure that I could agree with that. Yet again I felt frozen. Yet again, I didn't know how to respond to the situation. I wasn't quite in autopilot mode, but I made an autopilot response.

Because all I did was nod.


	3. Anxious Ashes

"What do you plan on ordering, Claudia?"

I really wanted him to stop talking.

The car ride over was not as horrific as I had expected it to be. Joker threw some weird vibes my way at first, but he was harmless. There was a huge issue between us though that was causing a spark with my anxiety. _He never shut up._

He talked about everything on the way over. Analyzing my outfit, going on about his fabulous life, inquiring about my life, talking on and on about his dog, his mom, and his sister. I knew more about Joker than I ever wanted to know.

Not only was he talkative, but he was impatient. He snapped his fingers, waving a hand inches from my face. "Hello, you there? I asked you what you wanted."

I gripped the edges of my menu. Hardly able to function in a normal situation, Joker's intense personality was really pinching all of my nerves. I had the urge to go blurry again, just so I would not have to handle all of it. In my head I was describing the world around me so I would stay grounded. _The carpet is red, the tablecloth is black, his suit is blue, the menu is white with black writing._ My thoughts were keeping me grounded in the room, but kept my mind so busy that I couldn't always keep up with what he was saying. When I looked up at him to respond, I knew I looked horrified. I developed a stutter when speaking.

"S-some sort of... Uh, I think soup."

Joker rolled his eyes. He didn't understand why I was so anxious over the situation. It didn't anger me though, I knew most normal people didn't understand. There was nothing scary about conversation to him, but it terrified me.

He slapped his menu down on the table in front of him, kicking back in his chair as if he owned the place. The restaurant was just as nice as the one I was at before, but I felt a much more dark vibe at this place. The color scheme from The Han Family Eatery was more elegant and elite, and it reminded me of a place that you would go to get married. This place… It looked like a place that rich people went to in order to seduce other rich people. I felt out of place.

I remembered that with my books, I was a rich person. And Joker was rich too. Maybe I wasn't so out of place after all, but that was far from a comforting thought. My delusional mind could not comprehend actual intimacy, only the intimacy between two characters were acceptable. Hopefully, Joker had nothing like that planned. I wouldn't know how to respond.

"Soup, _really?_ You eat like an old person with no teeth, Claudia." He jested.

I swallowed, refusing eye contact with him. My skin felt tingly, but it was still just a dull thing. I hardly felt anything with much intensity, though I will admit that anxiety is the one thing I felt more strong than anything else. So this dull, nagging feel… It was a lot to me. I kept my eyes trained on the menu in front of him when I spoke. "Uh, yeah. I'm not supposed to eat really fattening foods… Image and all…" My voice was hardly audible, and my words came out all mushy on top of that. I hated it, but I was hopeless to fix it.

From the corner of my eye, I could catch him nodding. "Fair enough. But you aren't gonna be a model, so don't worry about that too much."

Unable to decipher if that was meant to be an insult or not, I just nodded. If his intention was to anger me and get me to fight he would fail. Even if I had the will to fight, my words would be lame and mesh anyways. I was no good at social altercations. The only verbal fights that I held finesse in were in my mind.

The handsome brunette let out another sigh. Clearly I was boring him, that was evident on the car ride over. What did he expect though? It was pretty well known by the media that I wasn't the most outgoing or finessed person out there. Choi was working on changing that perception, but I knew it wasn't ever going to change. My inability to function as a normal human is what kept me a good writer, and people only loved me for my writing.

"Well, I get the vibe that you're a get-to-the-point kinda girl. I kinda like that." He lowered his head, forcing himself to make eye contact with me despite my attempts to shy away. I hated it.

"Good for you." I muttered, but my nervousness again forced my words to come out mangled.

He didn't comment on it, but he certainly noticed. His features got all twisted, like he was holding back laughter. I felt my stomach churn with embarrassment. "I want that part, Claudia." Was all he said, his voice breathy from his held-back amusement.

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat to get away from his intensity. "Well, you didn't get it."

"But you're in charge over there. You can change that."

"But why would I want to? Zen fit better than you." I decided to focus on my fork to avoid his eyes. Even though staring at the silverware would make it obvious that I was avoiding him, I didn't care. I couldn't handle eye contact, especially not when he was making demands like this. I would fold and I did not want to fold on this. Zen deserved his part.

I heard the table creak, and from the corner of my eyes I could spot him leaning in towards me. I felt like prey. He must have somehow known that I wasn't good at handling pressure, which meant he knew more about me than I expected.

His voice had that chilling tone that it had when he opened the door for me. I hated it _so much._ "Let's cut the crap here. I know you're one of those kids who grew out of nothing, so maybe that's why you respect a kid like that. But we all know I'm better."

Swallowing, I closed my eyes entirely. I wasn't able to face him and be fierce at the same time. My words were on autopilot, so they weren't graceful but they did get a point across. "I… I didn't come from nothing. My parents were doctors."

"Yeah, natural doctors though. They're hardly credible."

He was correct on that. If they had been normal doctors, maybe my life would have been a little different. Of course it might not have been better…. I could have ended up institutionalized. But my parents, as naturalist doctors, were skeptical about pretty much any mainstream doctoring. This was why they didn't believe in the existence of most mental illnesses. And since they were doctors, they thought they knew better than I. They would never believe me.

I dozed out thinking about all of that, something I almost always did when I thought about my parents. It was a hard thing to ponder. But Joker's patience didn't get any longer, so he snapped in front of my face yet again. "Hello? I'm still talking to you."

Shaking my head, I cast away my dark thoughts. "Uh, sorry. Yeah, my parents aren't the best doctors in the world, but they made a lot of money so I didn't come from nothing."

"Wanna hear my theory on it?" Joker propped his elbows on the table, resting his head on his hands. He was too close to me. I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

"S-sure." No, I didn't want to hear him talk about it, but if I refused I would have to argue. I knew I would lose an argument, lost in stutters and mumbles.

He narrowed his eyes, this gross smirk growing on his face. Everything about him was so dark. Joker was handsome of course, but the more I got to know him, the more fear I felt. Even if it was hardly rational I feared that face, that voice…

What I hated the most was that damn eye contact. I hated it when people looked me in the eyes. I believed the idea that the eyes were the window to the soul, so when people looked me in the eyes I felt like they knew about my issues. People knowing about my obsession with fiction terrified me. But Joker didn't ever stop looking in my eyes when he got the chance. It made me weaker than I already was, I had no chance of being comfortable here.

His voice reminded me of an old house, dark and creaky. "I think that you're just trying to play with me, Claudia."

 _No, no, no._ I didn't play games with anyone. I wasn't smart enough. How did he not understand that he just wasn't good enough for the part!? Why did I even have to justify it? I felt an anger rising within me, but yet again, the feeling was dull. I couldn't feel much of anything with intensity, and anger was not an exception.

"I think that you really want me for the part, but you think that would be to easy. You want me to work for it, don't you? I mean, harder than I would normally have to." Slowly, he brought up a hand, hovering it close to my cheek. I shivered. His presence was cold.

Gently, he twirled a loose strand of my hair with a single finger. I felt like I was on fire, and the anxiety made the time pass even slower than it already was. I felt sick. No way was I going to eat that night.

"So," He paused, getting even closer. I hated it, I hated it! I hated people being close. My small mind couldn't process the emotions it brought. Even though I hated him by now, being so close threw my mind off and I got confused.

Joker drew out every word, pausing between each to place emphasis on every single word he spoke. He wanted me to hear. I think he wanted me to suffer. "What do I have to do?"

He whispered those words ever-so softly into my ear, bringing a shiver down my spine. I knew what he was trying to do. Never before had I actually experienced it, but I had written about it enough to catch on. He was trying to seduce his way to the part. A part he wouldn't even get paid for. Why the hell did it matter so much? My heart was racing and I wanted it to stop. I _hated_ him, he had no right to make my heart beat that way. I wanted to scream, and my lips trembled as I resisted that urge. My eyes stung. I wanted to cry. Most of all, I wanted to leave.

I was a mess, about to fall apart on this fancy table in this elegant restaurant. At any moment I was sure that my skin would melt off and my bones would crack, my useless body wasn't able to handle all the pressure. Reality said that this was just a simple altercation, but my delusional mind screamed that this was the end of my life.

Abruptly, I stood up out of my chair. The world around me was fuzzy. It wasn't blurry, because sadly I was engaged in this horrible moment. My skin was crawling. I was horribly dizzy and it was a miracle that I didn't fall over when I stood up. The pale lights of the room made me cringe. Nausea set in. I could hardly force myself to speak, but I managed to get out one simple word.

"No."

I wasn't exactly answering his question then. My word was a statement against everything that had gone on that night. It was a protest against his lusty suggestions, it was a plea against asking me out to dinner that night, a scream against what he had said about my parents. I loathed everything about it, everything about him.

Even though I was rejecting him, even standing, his expression was confident still. "No? What is that supposed to mean, silly?"

"It means what it means. You lost the part, get over it. I'm…" I paused, taking in a long inhale. I felt breathless. "I'm going to leave. Thanks for the sentiment, I guess." The word 'sentiment' came out in a mutter. Complex words were impossible when I was this flustered.

Joker didn't back down easily, pushing his own chair in and walking up beside me. Too close to my body yet again. I didn't like people being close to me, but especially not him. It made me feel gross.

But he got even closer, his slimy fingers tracing up my arms. I was frozen, but I knew that I wanted to run away. I just couldn't do it. My legs were locked. "Oh, come on. Don't be so cold to me. You and I," He paused for effect. He was so dramatic. Did he ever stop acting? "I think that you and I might have something here."

I had nothing to give, even if I wanted to give it. Joker would be the last man on the planet I would give it to anyways. He had a pretty face and I liked it. Since everything in my daydreams were mostly idealized anyways, I was attracted to ideal faces. But even his face couldn't mask the fact that I was horrified of him.

"We have nothing." I swallowed, "I'm going home now. Thank you for the sentiment." I repeated myself, which made me want to slap myself right then and there. I was trying to be serious and here I was, repeating myself like a child who didn't know anything better to say. I hated my inability to argue. To make it worse, I mispronounced 'sentiment' again. I wanted to die right on the spot to remove myself from the situation.

He was silent. His expression morphed, no longer borderline seductive. It was anger. For a moment, his grip on my arms got tight, tight enough to make me wince out loud. My skin burned from the squeeze. But just as soon as he gripped me, he let go.

"Well, I'm sorry we can't see eye to eye on this, Claudia. I hope I see you again soon."

I never wanted to see him ever again, but I didn't let him know that. Saying that out loud would invoke an argument and that was the last thing my fragile heart needed. So, without another word, I quickly made my way out of the restaurant. My vision was fuzzy from the adrenaline high that the situation had put me through. The sound of my heels clicking on the floor resonated inside of my mind, echoing across the edges of my skull. The simple sound was harsh on my temporarily sensitive nerves. It was like nails on chalkboard, and I cringed with almost every single step.

Distracted by the noise, I hardly noticed I had managed to exit the building until the chill of the winter weather hit my legs. Why had I even bothered wearing a dress to this? I should have never bent to Choi's childish whims in the first place. Moreover, she should have known better than to let me fall for what was obviously a trap by Joker to get the part he wanted. She was so much older than me that she had to have known better. I was angry. Angry at everything.

Angry as I was, the feeling was still dull. I knew most people would be way more upset. Maybe they would even cry. But I hardly cried anymore, as much as I would like to sometimes. I think it would be easier to process my emotions sometimes if I just sat down and had a good cry every once in a while.

I could feel the cold though, that was intense enough to make me jitter. Before I set off to walk home, I crossed my arms over my chest to retain a little bit of heat.

 _Why don't you call someone, Claudia?_

Most people had close friends, or at least it seems that way when you dont really have any. From what I've heard about it, good friends will come and bail you out of bad situations even if it hinders them in some way. In short, most people would have a friend that could pick them up after they ran away from a creep in a short dress in the middle of winter. I had Choi, but I doubt Choi would be pleased that I turned down an idol like Joker. Stardime wasn't a friend but even if he was, he was probably drunk at this hour. My parents were violently conservative and would be mad about my dress, all to side that I hadn't spoken to them in quite some time.

No one loved me enough to give me a ride home. I suppose that should hurt me, but it still didn't evoke much emotion out of me. Sadie and Drage had friends, and that's all my deranged mind cared about. Shivering, I started to make my way back home.

My legs felt like they were on fire.

Those heels weren't doing any favors in the first place. While I was adept at walking around in them on a normal basis, the harsh concrete and cold weather was proving a challenge. My muscles became stiff, making every step steadily more challenging than the last.

The tips of my ears felt like they were going to freeze off any moment now, and my nose felt like it was made of ice. I was miserable, but I had to get home. In my purse was only enough money to pay for the meal I didn't even order, not enough to pay for any hotel to stay for the night to escape the cold.

I didn't want to escape this moment, as awful as it was. Online I read that handling bad emotions was a way to overcome obsessive daydreaming like this. But I was weak. I slipped away, into a warmer place.

" _Sadie! Come on out, the water feels great!"_

Standing in my bikini, towel in hand, I looked down once more at my phone. I was torn. Do I go swimming with my friends and leave my phone for a few hours, or do I stay locked up in here so I can be close to Drage?

I was concerned over our last string of texts. He started using lowercase letters exclusively, something he only did when he was sad about something. Drage kept telling me that he had something wrong with him and that it was personal. I kept telling him that he didn't have to tell me. But he wanted me to know.

His next text was likely an explanation of whatever was wrong with him. I wanted to know, but only so I could help him. My curiosity did not matter at all in this instance.

On the other hand… My friends and my family had no clue of Drage's existence, let alone our relationship. How could I explain to them that I would rather be holed up in my room than be around them without letting them all know about him? I knew they wouldn't trust him, seeing as how he lived so far away… But love knew no bounds. I trusted him and that was all that mattered.

I checked up on what time it was in Norway. Since I had been with Drage, I always made sure to keep the time zone of Oslo logged in my phone. It was late, so maybe he wouldn't even text me back that night. Even if he did he wouldn't blame me for going and swimming with my friends. Drage was sensitive. But he was understanding.

"I'm coming!" I called back, gently placing my phone down on my nightstand. For a few moments, I kept my eyes locked on it, waiting for the screen to light up with a text. But it didn't. I was free to swim, if I wanted to.

It was so cold, I couldn't be caught up in my daydreams too long. Eventually my train of thought was guided back to this frigid reality, and what I was going to do about it.

As I walked down the dim streets, I tried to calculate where I was and where the nearest familiar spot was. I passed a familiar American restaurant, one my family took me to a lot right after we moved to Korea. Lots of memories at that place… Not all good, not all bad. My memories of my parents were just monotone. When I recalled sitting in those booths, the memory almost came in black and white. It was completely neutral and unemotional.

I let out a sigh, watching the thin white cloud that it created. This restaurant was near where the theatre was. Surely it would be closed at this hour, but I would at least be able to have a somewhat familiar place to clear my head. Or at the very least, a safe spot to daydream away the trauma of meeting up with Joker for a few minutes.

The walk over to the theatre was, as the rest of the walk, uncomfortable. Paranoia began to sink in now that I was not escaping my emotions via my daydreams. My fear was still dull. Instinctively, I was afraid that a predator may find me walking alone on this street, clad in this somewhat too-risque dress. But just as with all my other emotions I was detached. Even if I was attacked, it would feel like it was happening to another person almost. What happened to me, my body, truly did not matter in my mind. The only thing that kept me in some fear was that primitive, instinctual fear that all humans had. As deranged as I was, I was somehow still human.

Once again that elegant theatre was in my sight. But unlike last time, I was no longer enthralled by its charms. I had a very limited reaction to things. After discovering something, I could only be amused by it for moments. I believe it stems from my daydreams, since they are the root of almost all of my issues anyhow. But the thing about daydreams is that they are ever changing, constantly engaging and fresh. The real world was not so flexible, and bored me quickly. This architectural masterpiece, with all the work that had been put to build it, simply did not catch any of my attention anymore. I felt bad for it, but I could not change the whims of my fickle mind.

Despite not being in love with the beauty any longer, I was relieved to be there. It was something old, something stabilizing after the rowdy encounter I had just endured. Maybe it was not as soothing as my heated living room would have been, but it was a start. Coming down from all the adrenaline, I leaned my back against the side door. I expected everything to wash over with calm in that moment.

I was horribly wrong.

While I was not the most rational person to walk the Earth, I was rational enough to assume that this door would be locked at this hour. Even if it was not properly locked, I could also assume it would at least be closed. But both of these presumptions were smashed along with my body as my weight flung the door open, nearly knocking me to the floor in the process.

The adrenaline that had only moments ago rushed back into my body yet again as I tried to find some balance. My body was still in a shock from the cold, and there was nothing in sight that I would be able to grab onto to hinder my fall. Even if there was, my vision was yet again fuzzy by the intense rush the fall had created. It took all I had in me not to just panic and allow the fall to happen.

By some miracle, I managed to not fall completely to the floor, catching my balance. I was winded and had managed to hurt my elbow on the door, but otherwise I was unscacthed. I breathed heavy, still acutely aware of my heartbeat. This was enough excitement for one night. My heart was not used to my body being in such extreme situations and was liable to give out if I had anymore surprises.

Since I was already inside, I figured that there was no harm in finding myself a good seat. My legs were still stiff from the weather and the pressure of holding my body uptop of three inch heels. I deserved a decent break.

I returned to the room I had been in only weeks ago, hosting auditions. It was kind of ironic that I had ended up here, since this was the place where my problems with Joker all started. I wasn't very superstitious though, and I saw no significance in what I considered to just be a strange coincidence.

"Ahh… What a strange night." I muttered as I settled into one of the front row seats, allowing myself to stretch my legs out at awkward angles to stretch them out. I was posed quite awkwardly and the short dress sure didn't make the position look appropriate, but it wasn't like anyone was going to see. This theatre surely must be abandoned at this hour, save for me. But for what seemed like the millionth time that night, I was dead wrong.

It started out as small, scuffling noises, ones that I nearly dismissed as sounds created by my own mind. While I was not the type to believe in ghosts, I did believe in bad people lurking in abandoned places in the night. That slight paranoia could easily create false noises. But then it got louder, escalating to what nearly sounded like footsteps. Whatever it was, it was pacing around behind the curtains onstage. My suspicions were heightening, and even though the muscles in my legs screamed that I was in too much pain to walk over and investigate, I soon had no choice.

The lighting was dim, but I could spot one red eye poking out from a gap in the curtains. A moment before I had viewed all superstitions as hogwash, but that eye threw me into the cult of believers. As soon as I could get my heart rate settled, it was again spiked. But this time it was perhaps the most intense.

I let out a loud scream, quickly adjusting myself in my seat and bolting upward, nearly falling over again from the unsteadiness of my heels combined with the shock of spotting a demon. Irrational as it may be, I was positive I was going to die. This life-or-death feeling was something I could feel with full intensity. If I wasn't so scared, I might have appreciated the fact that for once I was feeling something a normal person would feel.

In a knee-jerk reaction, I slammed my hands up to my chest in an effort to protect my heart. The worst of thoughts were running rampant across my mind. It could easily be Satan himself skulking behind the drapes, or perhaps it was some sort of angry demon, even the sour spirit of someone who had died in the auditorium. Whatever it was, I was certain that it must be horrific.

"W-what are you! What do you want with me?" I stammered, my voice sounding strange as I yelled. My voice was normally soft-spoken to the point that I could not be understood, so this sudden outburst was new even to me. It came out quite strange sounding as a result, but it didn't much matter in this frightful situation. The priority was that the demon heard my plea.

Almost like a horror movie, I could hear a loud creaking noise coming from the floorboards of the stage. Gulping, I clenched my sweaty palms even closer to my body. As odd as my life was, I did not want to die.

The curtains opened as if they were in slow motion. Time seemed to stand still. Why did time have to freeze like this whenever I was petrified? In my horror, I kept my eyes closed, head diverted from the path that I had noticed the disturbance in the curtains. If I didn't see it, maybe I would be okay. For a moment, I debated starting to believe in God if only for the comfort of having someone to pray to during this trying moment. _Oh my gosh, I'm going to die alone in this theatre with hardly any clothes on with_ _ **no**_ _witnesses at all._ My mind was rampant with thoughts only of me and my well being. Perspiration dripped from my face, and I began to feel a tears well up through my protesting eyes. This was it, the eventful end to my uneventful life.

"... Aren't you Claudia?"

Upon learning that this demon knew my name, I winced. But then I had a moment to process a few things… The hell spawn sounded awfully unsure of my name. And he didn't sound half as menacing as I had assumed. Actually, when I thought about it, that voice was a familiar one.

Cautiously, I opened my eyes. When I recognized that handsome face I was able to let out a long sigh of relief. I immediately lowered my arms.

"Yeah. Why are you here this late?" Those red eyes made sense now. It wasn't the eyes of a demon. Far from it actually, since Zen was too easy on the eyes to be considered related to hell in any way.

He emerged completely from the safety of the curtains, standing on the edge of the stage to converse with me. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? I'm an actor, I have reasons to be here."

Without a word, I shuffled through my purse, locating my phone to read the time. It was 11:00 P.M. "This late? Like what?"

Zen crossed his arms, "Practice and such."

"No one else is here," I pointed out, growing skeptical. "So unless you are practicing on your own, you have no reason."

"And since that is the reason, I don't think we have anything to be fighting about on my part. Seriously, why are you here?" He repeated, not standing down from his inquiry. While I wasn't much one for eye contact, he had a pretty sincere look to him otherwise. There was something that was off about him though… Nothing obvious, it was simply a vibe.

More importantly than that, I did need to provide a reason why I was here. Considering my meeting with Joker was about taking over Zen's part, it might be a tad bit awkward if I told him the truth. Not to mention I was liable to break down mid-story. So I kept it short, hoping he wouldn't ask for any details. "I was out in town and something bad happened, and I had to leave. It's cold so I came to a place I knew to get warm."

"Are you okay?" Zen's expression went from cynical to concerned in just a flash. His real emotions could turn just as quick as his acting could.

I nodded. "It's okay. I don't really wanna talk about it. But I had a feeling it was going to end bad so I'm not surprised."

The albino nodded, making his way over to the stairs by the stage so he could be closer when we spoke. But even as he distanced himself from me in order to reach the stairs, his booming voice could still carried on. "Well, since you walked over here I assume you don't have a ride back. I can give you one if you aren't afraid of motorcycles."

Zen was really turning out to be the stereotypical bad boy, wasn't he? Smoking, riding a motorcycle, that black leather jacket… He had punk-ish hair too, long and white. Granted you could tell from those eyes that his hair wasn't some expression of teenaged angst or rebellion against a natural hair color. It was innate, 100% Zen. There was a lot to him, and I couldn't comprehend it all. It was nice to be around though.

I shrugged. "I don't mind motorcycles. But it might be weird for you to be seen out with a girl as young as me this late."

He cast me a confused look. "Wait, you said you were seventeen, right? That's only a year younger than me so that isn't a big deal."

Now _I_ was the confused one. Cocking my head, I looked him over once again. He looked like he was at least in his mid-twenties… No teenager I knew was quite that tall, and certainly none of them had such a fine jawline. We all looked quite awkward because we were still growing up, but Zen looked like he was an adult that had his style put together. "Huh. I thought you were older." Was all I could muster.

"I get that a lot, don't worry about it." He smiled, holding back a hand and running it through his hair. "I mean, probably has something to do with how drop-dead gorgeous I am, don't you think?"

That question was not good for me. Due to my horrible socialization skills, I kind of just had a habit of agreeing to anything anyone said unless it was obviously offensive. So before I even really thought about what was just spoken, I nodded quickly. "Yeah!"

I did not want to seem like I was flirting. That was the last thing I wanted to do. Just because Zen was nice did not mean that my fear of being close to people was erased. I still couldn't handle emotion like that. Hopefully, he wouldn't take it in that way.

He pursed his lips, surprised at my answer. "Haha, someone who finally agrees with me!" Zen chimed, clasping his hands together in content. _Phew. That could have went way worse._

For a moment, the situation was as golden as it could get as far as I was concerned. I may have slipped up in my talking, but Zen actually found it amusing so it must have been a win for me. We cleared up why both of us were here, and I might have even scored a ride home. I tried relaxing again, but I really think I should stop doing that because I heard more footsteps as soon as the warm feeling set in.

It was better this time. I wasn't alone, and Zen was the one who reacted first. He went dead quiet, looking behind us. "Shit." He muttered, reaching out for my arm.

Obviously, I pulled a way. Handsome man or not, I didn't trust a man touching my arm out of the blue, but especially not after what had went down with Joker that night. Just remembering that moment made the places on my skin that he touched burn… It was gross. But unlike Joker, Zen didn't hold me down with an iron grip. He didn't reach out again, though he did get a little bit closer to whisper.

His whispering made me cringe, even though I came to realize that he had purpose for it. I wasn't being seduced again, he was trying to be help, but my mind was so one-track that it reminded me of how Joker whispered only hours ago. "Okay, long story short, the janitor can't see us here and we need to leave now. I'll give you that ride home, just be quiet and follow my lead."

I nodded without much thought, since my mind was still trained on the mild trauma I had from Joker. Sure, it would have been a small experience for anyone else, but it truly rocked my small world. But even if I had been able to think more clearly, logic spoke to the fact that Zen was the actor here and he would be able to handle any bad situation better than I just by putting on a different face.

He nodded, giving me the smallest of smiles as if to express his gratitude. Without another word he scooted up against the back wall, motioning with his hand for me to follow suit. Of course, I did so.

Even slower, he began creeping along the wall, obviously heading toward the door that I had come in through. "What's wrong?" In a quiet tone, I tried to figure out why we had to leave because of this janitor.

Never stopping his movement to speak, he answered in the quietest of voices. "Okay, I promise I was practicing, but I'm seriously not supposed to be here this late. You and I could get in big trouble."

"Why would I be in trouble! I was just trying to get warm, you were the one using the stage." I whisper-yelled, not pleased with the thought of being reprimanded.

He rolled his eyes at me, obviously not amused. "No one is supposed to be here for any reason at all, even if they aren't on the stage. We'll both get in trouble, so hush up and follow me."

While I wasn't satisfied with his answer in whole, it placated me to the point that I shut up about it and followed him out of the auditorium. For a few moments I didn't really understand the gravity of what was going on, but then I spotted the janitor.

There was absolutely nothing imposing about the man. He was short, with medium-length black hair and a face full of scruff. He was rough, but the pleasant type of rough guy that probably brought home really cute stuffed animals for his kids and loved his wife. But noticing that Zen was seriously right about that threat of punishment made me jolt. Despite not wanting to be touched, my arm clutched onto Zen.

I guess he didn't much like it either, because he immediately shoved my hand off of him with more force than it really would have taken. While I would normally be offended by that, I wasn't at all. As far as I knew he might have had problems too with being touched, and I was a horrible person for invading his space like that. "Sorry," I whispered, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Why the hell did I think that was okay! "I was scared. I'm sorry."

"It's cool." He muttered, hands resting on the still-unlocked door. I knew it wasn't heavy at least, seeing as how my weight forced it open earlier. Ideally it wouldn't make much noise as we exited the building.

Slowly and steadily, he pushed up against the door, looking behind him as he did so to ensure that the janitor was not aware. I kept an eye on him as well since I was just as anxious about being discovered. It was going well until the world outside started to invade.

The noise easily would have been muted had the theatre been filled with distractions, as I'd imagine it was during operating hours. Unfortunately for us, the theatre was perched next to a string of low-end apartments, and the sound of two people arguing rang clear throughout the open door.

"What the hell do you mean you lost your ring? That's bull! I know you pawned that thing off!"

If the low baritone of the angry man's voice did not catch the janitor's attention, the shrill, whiny voice of the woman who responded surely would. "You know we couldn't make next month's rent, and it isn't like you love me anymore! That ring was useless, we needed the cash!"

The janitor's head jerked our way, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. We didn't have any time to mess around. Zen and I nodded to each other before he flung the rest of the door open and zipped out.

He was quite a bit ahead of me, considering he had on tennis shoes and I had some killer heels. Every step for me felt like a tightrope act. My feet were going to hate me by the end of the night… But this wasn't my focus. Not only was it cold enough to freeze over hell, but it had started to rain.

Zen kept looking behind him as he ran to make sure I was keeping up. I had no idea where we were going, just that we were running in the direction behind the theatre, probably to hide away from the janitor's prying eyes. I must have looked pitiful. My dress was soaked to my skin by the time we reached wherever he was leading me, and my once well-styled hair was stuck to my face and frizzy. But I could hardly see anything anyways due to the buildup of raindrops on the lenses of my glasses.

Zen's gaze was behind me, searching for any trace of the janitor. "Shit." He muttered. He must have followed us.

Hardly a moment later, this fear was confirmed. "Hey, you two! Get back here!"

 _Zen is the actor here. He'll be able to put on a face and get us out of this situation._ While that was a rational thing to assume, I knew he would be in much more trouble than I would be for being here so late. He worked there, so he knew better than to be there at all. Meanwhile, I was just a clueless girl dressed in party clothes. I had an idea, even though I wasn't sure I held the grace to execute it.

But I knew I had to try.

"Zen, run off, okay? I think… I think I got this." My voice was shaky, hopefully he would believe that I was just cold. I was terrified. My skin was ablaze with the cold rain hitting my mostly-exposed skin, and my fear of facing this situation only added gasoline to it. My head was spinning and I could almost hear the sound of my blood coursing through my body. Anxiety screamed against my action, but I had to do this. I already fought Joker to keep Zen's part, it would all be for naught if he got fired in the name of trespassing.

His face was blurry through my glasses, but I could hear his voice over the pounding rain. "What? How?!"

"Don't worry about it, just go!" My voice was still a hushed-yell. This all depended on the janitor not fully noticing the presence of the man, so I desperately needed him to run off.

For a moment he was completely still, but I could catch the outline of him nodding through my smudged glasses. He ran off without a word in the distance, but I didn't watch where exactly he ran to. It didn't matter.

The only time I have much bravery is when I'm pretending to be another character in my head. I clenched my fists. _C'mon. Have some of Drage's strength for a minute._ I knew I would need it. The world around me was shaking with my fears, about to crumble all around me. My body would surely be reduced to anxious ashes if this altercation lasted too long. Despite knowing this, I turned to face the janitor. "I'm over here."

The man who I had perceived to be a gentle type of rugged now hulked before me, angry. His breath was loud from tracking me down, and that blue uniform was soaked. I gulped, knowing he didn't want to be out here. I was the cause of his upset. This could be bad.

"Where's the other one?" He gruffed.

Feigning ignorance, I cocked my head. "Other what?"

"The other person. Where are they?" He creeped up beside me, looking both ways. Fortunately he had to slit his eyes to shield himself from the rain, because Zen's stark white hair would stick out among the morbid and dark scene.

Time for my plan to escalate. The idea was to act like a drunk girl who had stumbled out of the bar that was, conveniently, only a few buildings down from the theatre. It was believable, not to mention that I had enough experience being drunk to pull it off. Of course, this experience did not detract from my apprehension over the situation. I was still shaking. Fortunately this dress and this weather could justify it, but my body actually felt quite warm due to my petrified response to the situation.

"Oh!" I forced my body to sway, taking awkward steps all around. The worker turned to face me, alerted by my sudden uproar. I had his attention.

Quickly, I clenched my gut, forcing a gigantic smile on my face. "Hehehehehe… I'm sorry mister." I held out the word 'mister', and ended up mispronouncing the word sorry by mere coincidence. The adrenaline was bringing back my speech issues, but for once this vice became a virtue in convincing the man I was wasted.

He nodded slowly, beginning to grasp the situation. "Ma'am, where have you been tonight?"

I forced on a deer-in-the-headlights look, pursing my lips. Bringing a hand up, I pointed in the direction of the pub. "I was… Was at that bar…"

"Were you with anyone?" He inquired. I shook my head quickly, the dizziness from my anxiety creating a pretty convincing facade of a drunk girl. I kept stumbling on my own feet, swaying every which-way.

I rolled my eyes to look up to the sky, as if I was trying to piece together what had happened that night. "Uh… I was with my boyfriend but he got mad at me and left with his buddies… I think… It's okay! I'm almost home, I'm just cold."

He scanned my outfit, which made me feel violated. My heart raced, and I had to press my lips together to keep myself from yelping. "I can see that you'd be cold. You said you lived nearby, right? I can give you a ride home."

Swiftly, I shook my head. "Nah, I live _reaaaaal_ close. I called my boyfriend anyways and I think he forgive.. Forgave… Yeah, we good! He'll get me." I flashed him a big grin, doing my best to pull off the facade. My speech was slurred heavily from my nervousness, but it only furthered my case.

He paused, as if to consider my words, but nodded. I felt some of the tension pent up in my chest break away, and I had to stop myself from sighing in relief. "Okay, if you say so. But for future reference, this theatre is not supposed to be entered this late."

I nodded. A true drunk girl probably would have laughed and asked why he was there if no one was supposed to be there, but I had used up every inch of my courage with that act. I could do no more. My entire body felt weak, like I had just ran a marathon when all I had done was use a few simple words and stumbled around a little bit. It was over.

"Do you need me to wait with you for that punk of a boyfriend?" Obviously, he was not fond of the idea that a man would leave behind his drunk girlfriend. Which meant he was a good person, but I really didn't need him noticing that Zen was there.

I rejected him. "No, he told me… He told me he'd be here soon!" I faked a hiccup, giggling at the sound. "Just go back in and swab the deck, mopman! Hehehehe."

I noticed him roll his beady eyes, but he said no more as he walked off. The wind was gelid and the rain did nothing to help, he was probably more than eager to leave me be and return to the serene heat of the inside. When his blurry outline was out of my sight, I let out a big exhale. The situation had been so harsh on me that I felt as if I had been holding my breath during the entire conversation. Damn my social intolerance to hell.

Moments later, I heard bushes rustling. When I turned to examine them, I instead spotted Zen running up to me. His soft-looking hair was now a nest for leaves, seeds, and even a few small twigs.

"You really convinced him that you were drunk? And I thought you weren't an actor." He grinned big at me, somehow impressed by what anyone would consider to be a lackluster performance. It was likely that he was just grateful for me saving his ass and wanted to show his appreciation by being overly-nice. I was in no place to call him out for it though, so I just nodded and accepted his grace.

He reached up to his head, grasping a chunk of it and bringing it around to inspect it. His eyes took on a disgusted glare. "Ew. My hair is totally a mess from that… Oh well, I guess keeping my job was worth it." Zen turned back to me, flipping his hair back so he wouldn't have to think too hard on the damage. "I seriously owe you that ride home now."

"Yeah." I shrugged, not willing to fight his offer. The night had been horrible and I was exhausted mentally from the events I had to withstand that night. I was honestly on the verge of collapse.

Unable to see through my rained-on glasses, I was quite surprised when I felt a hefty warmth fall upon my shoulders. I looked side to side, noticing a white blur resting upon them. When I looked back up to Zen, his blurred silhouette looked a different color. Moments ago his torso had been entirely white, but now…

"That dress is not fit for motorcycle riding. Wouldn't want it to flip up on you. And you look pretty cold, so you can borrow that coat for the ride over."

He had a point. This short dress was more than just prone to flipping up on me with all the wind created by riding, but I still felt bad for taking his jacket like that. I squinted my eyes in order to make out what he was wearing. Upon the clearing of my vision it became clear he was clad in a simple t-shirt. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Wouldn't want a lady to go and freeze on my bike anyways. Besides," He grew a cocky smile, "I'm just as tough as I am handsome, so I'll be fine."

It was selfish of me to accept, but without another word against it I slipped the jacket threw my arms and buttoned it on up. My skin was clammy from all this rain, and the safety of a warm jacket was appreciated. It was a rather nice trench coat and would prevent my dress from flashing everyone behind us.

Zen didn't skip a beat walking off to the black blur that was his motorcycle. He must have been cold without that jacket, so I made my way over as quick as my heels would allow me. I could hold some grace with these things most of the time, but the rain and stress of the night had reduced me to a sloppy mess.

I mounted the bike, sitting behind him. Leaning back I perched my hands behind me to support my weight. He looked back at me.

"I know you don't know me well, but unless you plan on flying off the back of this thing, you should probably hold onto me. Promise I won't bite." He turned back to me, speaking up to make sure he was heard over the pounding rain.

As awkward as it was for me to hug someone, he had a point. After a moment's hesitation I wrapped my arms around him. He was warm. And from what I could deduce, muscly. Not like I was trying to deduce his body type, it was just that when I reached my hands around his midsection I couldn't help but notice that he was pretty stiff. If my vision wasn't hindered, I might have even noticed that his tight black shirt in combination with the rain made it easy to see. Fortunately I couldn't.

"Where do you live?' He questioned when he was sure I was snug against him.

"You know where the Han-Lee Complex is by any chance? If not I can give you directions."

Zen shook his head, turning away from me to start up the bike. "I know where it is, unfortunately."

Before I had the chance to ask him why it was so unfortunate that he knew where I lived, the motorcycle roared to life. While I was not particularly afraid of being on one, the sudden sharp noise did cause my body to jolt and I squeezed him a little harder. I wasn't entirely sure because of all the harsh noises around me, but I was pretty sure I heard him laugh at my reaction before driving out of the back parking lot.

I had no idea how he was driving through all this rain, especially since I wasn't sure if he had on anything to protect his eyes. Come to think of it, there might have been a pair of aviators hanging from his t-shirt. It was all too fuzzy for me to recall. In that moment it didn't much matter. I was just happy that my horrible night was almost at an end.

Actually, this was a quite pleasant end. Everything went down okay even though I was almost scared to death several times. It was over now. I was getting a ride home and I had a nice jacket on. It might still be a little chilly but rides in cars always calmed me down, and thus far a motorcycle ride proved to have the same effect. My eyes closed against the weather, and I buried my head into Zen's back. His body had a very calm, warm feeling. I didn't mean that in a creepy way. I was just cold and body heat was appreciated. And well… It did make me feel a little bit less alone.

My normal reaction to a collection of tense situations like this would be to shut down completely. I would lock myself away in my apartment and daydream for a week straight with a few angry breaks in which I would yell at myself for my shameful "coping" method. If I had been alone I would have already started the daydream binge. But since someone was with me, there was a distraction. It is very hard to daydream in a conversation. Of course I could always go blurry around people, but my senses were so full that it was nearly impossible to slip into an unemotional blur. It had been an awful night, but my senses were alive and happy for once. I could be thankful for that much.

The ride over was calm despite the treacherous weather. Zen was good at driving one of these perceived death-traps. He never jerked hard and swung me to the side, and never sped enough to make me sweat in dread. It was nearly serene. Not calm enough to allow me to catch the sleep I probably needed, but calm enough to for the final time, rest my heart from the night.

It didn't take long for us to reach the complex. He had to let me know, since my eyes were still shut with what was as close as I would get to tranquility. "Hey, we made it. You can keep the jacket for the walk up, just give it back next time you see me."

After all the random generosity he had shown me that night I couldn't let him ride all the way back to wherever he lived without a jacket. On a normal basis I would never let a guy come back to my apartment with me. It always implied something shady and I wasn't ready for that sort of thing. But Zen gave a different vibe, I trusted he wouldn't pull anything odd. Confident as I was of that, I still felt weird offering it to him. My words lost all the tact that they had when I was fooling the janitor, but I got the words out.

"You can stay with me tonight. It's too cold for you to go back without a jacket. I have a big couch…"

Zen cocked his head. "You sure?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Don't fight me on it, if I stay out here in this weather for too long I might change my mind."

He posed no other opposition and turned off his bike. The world seemed too quiet now, without the bellow of its engine. The rain had been deafening on my ears only minutes ago, but now it seemed docile. We both got off the bike and raced towards the safety of the canopied complex, rain stinging our faces as we strived. This time I could hear him laugh as he raced on. Even though it was frigid out here and the rain was not kind, he found a way to laugh. I concluded that he was a pretty fun person, or at least the type of person that could make a shit situation funny.

As I has suspected earlier, he was aviator-clad when he whipped around to face me after reaching the canopy. "What apartment number are you in?"

He seemed to not even be phased by the rush, at least psychically. On the other hand, I was beat, panting. It took me a moment to wind down enough to produce a breathy answer. "We need to take the elevator, I have the penthouse suite."

He pursed his lips in awe. "You can afford a penthouse from a place Jumin's family owns? Damn, didn't know authors made that much money."

"Well, now you know." Shrugging, I started walking towards the elevator, shuffling through my purse to produce the keys to my dwelling.

The ride up was uneventful. The elevator was heated, to both of our delights. I opened up the door to my apartment and let him in.

He whipped off his dark shades, folding them back over his soaked t-shirt. I darted towards the table in my living room to reach for the towelette I used to clean up my glasses. My pet peeve was having water dry onto the glass.

After wiping them completely clean and slipping them back on, I revolved back around to meet Zen. I took a step back.

"Um, Zen?" I was concerned. His face had quite a few cuts from the branches of the bush, and his hair was more matted down and filled with even more vegetation than I had initially noticed. The wind whipping through his once-elegant hair hadn't done anything to fix the situation. "I have a first aid kit in my bathroom, I'll be right back."

Before I could even make it there, he held up a hand in protest. "Don't waste your supply. I heal really quick, even if I don't get proper help."

While his tone was sincere enough it was hard for me to trust that. "You won't be saying that when it swells up and starts oozing puss."

"I think Hans is the type of person who would let himself get cut up." Zen disputed.

He was right about it. Hans was pretty reckless, and was quite aware of his surroundings. By that, I mean that he would think a few facial cuts would be intimidating and might even encourage the growth of them in the name of appearing imposing in front of others. For a moment, I considered letting him pass up treatment. He would be more true to the Hans I had in my head.

Had I been lost in a normal moment for me- a moment wherein I was fighting this world and my daydream one, I would have allowed it. But this was one of the few clear moments I had, post-adrenaline. These moments were the closest to the person I would have been had I not succumbed to this awful illness. I was a good person in these moments. And in this moment I knew one important fact.

Zen was not Hans.

I shook my head. "I don't care what Hans would do. You're in my house, you're getting treated before you do anything else."

He rolled those vibrant eyes. "Shouldn't you change first? You have to be freezing, even with my jacket."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not injured, you are."

"But you could get hypothermia. You could totally die."

Now it was my turn, rolling my stormy blue eyes. "If I die in my own apartment, that is my problem, not your's."

"They'll pin it on me though. I already play a murder, it would be easy enough to believe I snuck in and killed you." Zen pleaded, trying to sound dead serious when he spoke of something this preposterous. Actually, saying he was trying wouldn't be giving him enough credit. He sure was a good actor to keep a straight face at that.

Amused, I started pacing away from him into my bathroom to search for the first aid kit. "You realize when the coroner tells everyone I died of hypothermia, the police won't be able to say you caused my death at all. A human can't cause hypothermia."

Zen followed me in, leaning up against the doorway of my bathroom. "I could. Author girls don't see hot guys often, so it would be obvious that your blood ran cold the moment you saw me and you dropped dead. And I'd be guilty as charged." He chimed.

Narcissistic as it was of him to say that, I only found it funny. I wished I had half that confidence in my looks. "Even if you think that is the case, my body is soaking. They could put together that I stood in the rain too long."

"I could make a comment on being wet, but I'll stop myself in front of the innocent author-girl."

I snickered, holding back comments about the erotica phase I had about a year back. Despite having no experience with intimacy, it was easy to spill words on a page about something you knew nothing of. Instead, I focused on the blue kit I had pulled out from the back of my medicine cabinet. I placed the box on the sink, pulling out a cotton swab and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Deviously, I held them out in both my hands, growing a devilish grin. "You probably already know this will sting."

He took the pain well, only grimacing a little bit when I applied the soaked pad to his face. Zen had such gorgeous features that even his cringe held some sort of inexplicable beauty. I felt no heavy attraction to anything really, but it didn't hurt my eyes at all to stare at his face so close. My heart felt a little unsteady and my hands shook a little bit due to the unusual proximity, but I managed to keep myself together in a situation that would have normally brought me to rubble. This night made me feel like I had grown a lot.

"There ya go." I threw out the swabs, placing the brown bottle back on the sink. I left the kit out, too lazy to set it back in a proper place. "All fixed up."

Zen stepped inward, craning his neck to get a good look at himself. He crinkled his nose, not content. "Jesus, if I would have known hiding in a bush like that was gonna screw up my hair this bad I would have thought of something else."

"You can use the shower in here," I gestured to the shower behind me, "I have another one I can use for the moment so you might as well go ahead."

He was swift in his rejection, holding up his arms in protest. "Don't worry about it, I don't have anything to change into anyways so there is no point."

I pursed my lips. "Well, you can probably fit in a pair of my sweatpants and I can lend you a big shirt. No one knows about it in my public interactions, but I normally don't dress very fancy. Lots of unisex t-shirts." While I did love to dress elegantly, I frequently lacked the motivation to wake myself up early enough to prepare myself. Typically I just threw on shorts and a t-shirt and spent my days at home.

"Geez, you don't have to be so nice." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "You don't like, expect anything by letting me borrow stuff and stay the night right?"

It took a moment for my brain to process what he meant. There was some sort of mental block going on when it came to me being sexual with people. I've been catcalled before but it didn't bother me on the account that I didn't fully comprehend how someone could be close to me. Most of the world was now just admiring me for my daydreamed creations, so it only furthered this disconnect that someone could ever be attracted to a psychical part of me. Eventually I did put it together though. He thought I wanted…

Unable to filter my words, my response was frenzied. "No, no, no, no, no, no, **no**." I took a step back, shutting my eyes tightly in disgust. "Oh my gosh, no, I'm just being nice because I want to be nice, I don't want anything out of you at all. Seriously, don't even joke about that." My slurred, imperfect speech pattern returned in full awkward swing.

Zen's face lit up, oddly enough. It wasn't exactly a happy expression, more shocked than anything. "Damn. I haven't been rejected so flat-out in a long time. Kind of refreshing actually."

"I don't care. Don't say that sort of thing to me." I was being irrationally mean, but I had such huge issues processing that matter in relation to me that I couldn't tolerate the thought for even another moment.

Maybe he didn't fully comprehend it, but the actor picked up on my discomfort and moved along. "Sorry. I guess I'll just go take that shower now… Uh, you should probably grab those clothes for me since I'll be changing though."

I nodded, feeling a little shaky after thinking about that subject. In a haze I left him for my room, flipped through my wardrobe until I found some appropriate clothing, and returned to the bathroom to give it to him. The shirt was just a large, plain black tee. The pants…

"Sorry about the purple sweatpants. I have more, but this is the only color that is clean right now." I apologized, handing him off the folded stack.

Zen had been sitting on my floor, propped up against the wall reading something on his phone. He looked up at me to examine his clothes, only to accept them with a smile. "You're the only one who is gonna see it, and I doubt you care much if I'm wearing purple sweatpants. I'm known for making whatever I wear look good, anyhow."

I nodded. "Um... this is probably goodnight then. My washer and drier is open for use so you can wash your clothes whenever you get done. I'll make some tea in the teapot and leave it out for you, and I'll go put out some blankets and pillows on the couch. I'm going to bed right after though, so you won't see me. Anything else you need?"

Zen shook his head.

"Okay." I forced a small smile, but that was hard after talking about what we had moments ago. I had no clue why it was bothering me so much, but it was. It was just a small comment, he wasn't even asking anything of me. He was just confused… But damn, it really bothered me, even made my stomach feel a little off. I was planning on having tea myself before that, but I doubted that my stomach could handle any more pressure. "... Sleep well." I muttered before walking off, being absolutely sure to close the door behind me.

There was a lot of daydreaming to be caught up on. It seemed that in the few moments that I had unchained from my daydreams, my brain felt this annoying need to compensate for lost time by having extremely vivid daydreams. Let me make clear, I never experience hallucinations of any sort, even when they do get quite vivid. Vivid for me means an intense daydream session, and most importantly extreme disconnect from the world around me. More so than normal. When this happened, I almost completely forgot my actions as soon as I performed them, and the actions I did perform were one-hundred percent done in autopilot. But despite this, I think I was able to get everything done that I needed for Zen to stay. I looked back over my kitchen before going off to bed that I turned off the stove when I prepared tea, and glanced back again to ensure that there was proper bedding for him to rest on my plush couch. But it took so much effort out of me to even remember to do that, not when my mind was-

"Sadie, Sadie, come on! You must like someone."

I didn't want her to know, but I felt like I couldn't hide it from her. My grandma could see the truth behind any lie, no matter how intricate and well-formed. And this lie, the lie that I was not in love… It wasn't hidden at all. My love for Drage was etched in my heart. My family couldn't know though, since it was long distance. They'd only remind me of how dangerous it was, when I knew for sure that Drage was what he claimed to be. They were foolish to mistrust this intense love I felt for him.

My eyes could not meet those of my all-knowing elder. "The boys at my school are boring. I don't like anyone at all."

"That isn't what your rosy cheeks are saying, my dearest Sadie." She flashed me a toothless grin, making my heart jump. I felt as if she knew everything despite her knowing nothing.

It was evident that I could not keep up this act much longer. As quickly as I could, I changed the subject. "Oh, did I tell you that I got accepted into college? All of those study books you made me read really helped, haha. Sorry for telling you that they were worthless…"

My pitiful excuse of a subject change proved to be useless. Her gaze grew more skeptical than ever. "Oh, I see what you are doing. What is his name?"

I was proud of the love I had for Drage, of course, so a part of me wanted to declare that right on the spot. An urge to burst out with my affections, detail every aspect of my love for the world to hear. But I was rational, I had self control. Holding strong, I forced myself to lie.

"Grandma, there's no one."

I ended up going to bed without taking that shower. As a matter of fact, I winded up not even changing clothes because I was too lazy. Zen's jacket was damp from traveling but it was still warm, and in combination with my bed sheets it felt pretty comfortable. My skin was still clammy and I was no doubt a mess, but my appearance didn't matter. My daydreams and my drowsiness were taking hold over any other priority I may have.

Tucked away in bed, I dreamed about Sadie's life until sleep took over enough that my brain was unable to function on a high enough level to daydream. Again when I slept, I could recall no actual dreams. My belief in the theory that I daydreamed so much because I didn't have enough actual dreams was strengthened yet again.

But my morning couldn't be bothered with me trying to recall any dream I may have had. Hours earlier than when I would normally awake, a shrill voice from my living room jolted me awake.

"Claudia!" The voice shrieked, " _What the hell is going on here!"_

In my barely-awake haze, I recognized Choi's voice. I had a lot of explaining to do. Obviously, she had caught Zen lounging around in my house.

Even though I did not want to, I lifted my heavy body from the comfort of my bed. I was still wearing his coat, so without much thought I shed the thing from my body and left it on my bed. My dress was crinkled from the tossing and turning of my sleep, in combination with never being able to dry fully under suffocating layers of coat and blanket. You didn't have to tell me I looked like a hot mess, but I didn't have the time to change. Choi was liable to rip out Zen's eyes in a heartbeat if she suspected something fishy.

So slowly, I stammered into my living room to face the bane of an angry publisher.


End file.
